Masks and Redemption
by Crysanth
Summary: Kakashi had thought it'd be a nice, straightforward mission: just nine months guarding some rock and a student at a school. No sweat, right? Then again, that was before you added magic to the equation. (Young Kakashi) Resumed at last!
1. In Which: Snape Has a Bad Hair Day

**I've always wondered what would happen if someone did a Kakashi First Year Xover with Harry Potter. Most are just for 4th, 5th, and 6th year, so it's never been fully explored. **

**Title- Masks and Redemption**

**Rating- T for language and possible violence  
**

**Summary: Kakashi is commissioned by Dumbledore to go to Hogwarts as a guard for both the powerful Philosopher's Stone and Harry Potter. He struggles to keep from being discovered, pass his classes, and save the stone from the ultimate Dark wizard himself- Lord Voldemort. Can Kakashi overcome the guilt from his past before it's too late?**

**ALSO: To those who are apprehensive about OCs- be comforted, for this is the first and last time you will see one in my story.**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

It was a relatively peaceful afternoon, considering that there was the Third Ninja war still going on. It was the type of afternoon that's comfortably cool, even in the summer, and a delicate breeze sifted through the forest surrounding Konohagakure. It made everyone pause and wonder if, perhaps, this was what it might be like to have peace between the Hidden Villages. A thoughtful afternoon.

That is, for everyone except...

"A mission? _Again_?" Minoru Kayuga's wail could be heard almost across the village. "But, Minato-sensei, we haven't had a lesson with you in ages! It's always you and Kakashi, going off on 'classified' missions, all the time! I'm _bored _of training myself!" The dark-haired genin slumped over dramatically on the stump he was perched on and let out a moan from his upside-down position. "It's not fair!"

Team Minato, getting back together with the return of two of its members from a high ranked mission, wasn't getting much training done at the 17th training ground. Minoru Kayuga sat in the middle of a clearing, while his teacher, Minato Namikaze was perched atop the middle of the three training posts.

Minoru was the rather whiny prodigy chosen to replace Obito after that disastrous mission. His pet peeve was that, while he was a prodigy, it just so happened that Kakashi was even more of a genius child. As a direct result of that, Kakashi, and not Minoru, was chosen as Minato's constant partner for S- and Unranked- Missions. And while Kakashi and Minato were off on missions, Minoru was forced to remain in the village with Rin, who he considered rather slow despite her healing prowess.

"Sorry, Minoru. It can't be helped. We have a war on." His sensei smiled sadly. "I wish I could train you, but it just isn't possible in the current situation."

Kakashi appeared next to the dark-haired Kayuga, where he certainly hadn't been sitting a few moments before. "Maybe if you stopped slacking off all of the time, you might make Tokubetsu Jounin, like me. Then you could go on missions with us." He paused, thinking it over. "Well, actually, no, you couldn't. But still; I'm a jounin, you just barely made Chuunin. Hence, no top-secret missions for you."

Minoru frowned and lifted up his head so that he could give Kakashi a death glare from behind his ridiculously long bangs. "You're a real bastard, you know that, Kakashi?"

Rin jumped from a nearby tree and landed gracefully, sitting placidly on Minoru's other side. "It is true though, sensei_. _Not about the bastard part, but the bit about the training. I mean, we haven't been training with you or Kakashi for a month and a half thanks to that classified mission, and before that, Kakashi went alone with that ANBU team to Lightning Country, and before _that,_ you and Kakashi and Gai were away for three entire months.

"Now you've just finally come back home, and you're commissioned for another 'classified'. You can understand why Minoru's upset. We missed you and Kakashi, is all." she finished, looking at him pleadingly.

"I'm not upset, and I _didn't _miss Kakashi! I'm going to beat his thick skull into the ground the next time we spar, and I won't let sensei stop me!"

"As if you could actually hope to win." Kakashi sighed. "It never ceases to amaze me how far you can carry your delusions."

"Like hell!" The Kayuga 'genius' was turning pink with anger now, and it was almost funny to see him sputter. "I've gotten way better while you were away with sensei. I could take you on right now and you wouldn't stand a chance, bastard."

Kakashi opened his mouth, no doubt to make a scathing retort, but was cut off by the sudden appearance of his sensei right_ b_ehind him, a messenger hawk on his arm, talons tearing the shirtsleeve.

"Calm down, Minoru," said Minato, ruffling the Kayuga's hair. "It actually seems as though Kakashi and I have been removed from that mission as a last-moment adjustment. The all-powerful advisory council wants us to guard the village, rather than, I quote, "go gallivanting off to places unknown."

Rin perked up a bit at that, and Minoru seemed rather surprised that all of his complaining had been pointless.

"But why?" Kakashi asked hesitantly. "I thought that we were requested specially by the mission leader- and it was an important mission, so it's not like you would have been wasting your time..."

Their sensei shrugged. "Perhaps they plan on commissioning the entirety of Team Minato for a different mission." His eyes looked the slightest bit troubled in their sky-blue depths for a moment, but it was gone like a passing shadow, and he turned back to his team. He smiled, turning to Minoru. "Your accusations were correct. And, since there are no missions to stop us from doing so, let's train!"

* * *

The Sandaime was troubled. It showed on his face as he regarded the visitors wearily. When the two, a man and a woman, had stepped out of thin air, clutching a musty sock, he had assumed that they were assassins from Suna or something along those lines. Certainly they were dressed oddly enough to be from Suna. Now, having heard their story, he almost wished that that were the case.

What they actually wanted was to buy a mission.

The woman spoke in a clear, crisp voice, whereas the man seemed not to be capable of speech at all. The woman wore a kind of loose-fitting dress in an odd style and a pointed hat with a wide brim. Tiny glasses perched on her hooked nose, and she looked ancient. In wartime, most ninja lived to be only thirty, forty if they were lucky, and it was considered odd to see even a civilian live beyond fifty. This woman was was just about the oldest person he'd met, aside from himself.

As for the man, he wore a black- was that a dress?- and cape. Actually, his shoes were black, too. And his belt. His eyes were black, too, remotely reminiscent of an Uchiha, except that instead of burning with black fire, they were more like- like black ice. He was frowning as he looked down on the Sandaime, and he had a large, hooked nose. The Sandaime almost flinched at that. The poor man. Put together that nose, his inadvisable fashion regime, and that _atrocious_ hair, and, well...

The woman had interrupted his thought by speaking clearly and quickly, albeit with an odd accent. "We have a request for a mission to register. If you could-"

"If you would like to request a mission, you needn't come to me. The mission center isn't in the Hokage building. My assistant can take you there if you don't know your way around the Village," he said, cutting her off. Something about these people made him think that it might be easier if they just left.

"Professor Albus Dumbledore, our employer, requested that we give this scroll to you and await your answer." The woman held out a small, fancy, tasseled scroll. "He says that it is extremely urgent."

Dumbledore. Well, that explained a lot, especially why he felt that it might be simpler just to toss the scroll in the wastebasket. Unfortunately for the Sandaime, his wastebasket was full, and even if he did dispose of the letter, Dumbledore would still find a way. That man always did. He sighed, took the letter, and unfurled it on his desk.

'_To Sarutobi Hiruzen, the Most Honorable Sandaime Hokage,_

_I would like to request a mission. It would be expensive- an unranked guard mission- and would require some of your most talented shinobi. A very valuable and dangerous item, the Philosopher's Stone, is going to be hidden at my school for approximately ten months while we find a safer place for it, and I would like a minimum of three Leaf shinobi stationed at my school in case a Dark witch or wizard makes an attempt at stealing it. Also included in the mission is a request for a personal guard. We have a student coming here in September as a First Year. His name is Harry Potter, a very famous child in our world. Due to certain circumstances, certain Dark wizards may make an attempt on his life during the school year.  
_

_I would like again to stress the importance that these shinobi be very skilled. The item, should it fall into the wrong hands, could create chaos in the Wizarding world and perhaps the Hidden Continent as well. Also, so as not to attract a large amount of attention from Dark Wizards, they would be required to complete this mission in the guise of an older student or, if necessary, a teacher.  
_

_Rest assured, you will be paid in full once you agree to send the minimum amount of shinobi required with my messengers, Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall, and if, at the end of the year, the object in question is still safe, I will 'tip' you with half of the original price, so send me your best. I am relying on you- I beg you, don't disappoint me._

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore...'_

Sarutobi frowned, and let the scroll roll closed on its own. "He wants me to send my best, but I'm afraid that just isn't possible. We are in the middle of a war, and we need every ninja that we have. We can't simply send off our elite to guard a stone for you."

Minerva- he assumed that it was she- spoke again in that odd accent. "Surely you need funding in this war of yours? If you refuse missions, where on earth do you get the money to pay for the war? We need a minimum of two shinobi, and we are willing to pay a large sum. Surely it would be unwise to deny us that?"

"I can give you one ninja, but that's it. The war isn't an elaborate ruse- funding is useless if the village is destroyed."

She gave him a 'look'.

Sarutobi sighed. "One ninja is enough, particularly the ninja I have in mind. I owe Dumbledore a favor from a while back. That, and that alone, is the reason that I will accept this mission, foolish though it might be as a tactical decision. Understand?"

Mute nodding.

"Good. I'll summon him at once so that you can meet him at once."

He straightened in his chair and whistled loudly, once. A tawny hawk flew in the open window and perched on a stand near his desk, waiting patiently, smooth and sleek-feathered. Sarutobi made a mental note to compliment the folks at the message headquarters. With a sigh, he took out the blank scroll from the pouch on the bird's back, scribbled a quick note to Minato, and replaced the scroll in the pouch with a prayer that he got it soon. Another whistle and the bird of prey took off again, soaring into the blue summer sky.

* * *

"_Sensei! _There's a note for you from the Hokage! It's coded for urgent reply!" Minoru ran towards where Minato and Rin were sparring, only to skid to a halt as Minato materialized next to him.

Minato smiled as he took the scroll, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. When he opened the scroll, however, his eyes widened in surprise. "The Sandaime needs to see us. We should get going."

Minoru pouted. "Another top-secret mission? Meh. You and Kakashi haven't even been back for one whole day, and I won't be able to train with you guys for forever, and-" he stopped when his sensei began to laugh.

"You're mistaken, Minoru. I won't be leaving for a while yet. Remember the bit about 'gallivanting'? It still applies."

"But you said-"

"I will accompany Kakashi to the Hokage; however, Kakashi will be going on this mission alone."

Kakashi groaned, trotting up to them from where he had been practicing shuriken throwing on falling leaves, pinning them to the trees. A smattering of leaves in various shades of decay clung to the trunk like lichen. "Shouldn't we be leaving, sensei? It is marked, 'Urgent Reply'."

"Huh? But Kakashi's just a kid, he can't go on missions alone! It's not fair, he needs us, his team." Minoru was scuffing his toes violently into the dirt and creating a small cloud of dust.

"Maybe that will apply when you can actually beat me for once." But even Kakashi couldn't help but frown. Going on a mission alone was something he hadn't done since- well, to be honest, he'd always had his team there as backup.

Minato made a small coughing noise. "We really do have to get there, Minoru. I know you and Rin will miss Kakashi, but-."

"I'm not going to miss him!"

"Sure, whatever."

"See ya!"

Kakashi and Minato took off for the Hokage tower.

Neither of them knew what they were in for.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall was not a patient woman. Nor was she forgiving, gentle, or easily amused. She had been waiting in the Hokage's office for these shinobi to arrive for nearly ten minutes, and as time wore on, she found herself grinding her teeth irritably. The old man in the dress- the Sandaime, she supposed- had gone back to sorting paperwork.

And it was hot here- the old man didn't seem the slightest bit bothered, but both she and Severus were sweating noticeably. Fighting the urge to do a quick charm and cool the place down, she fidgeted uncomfortably as her ankles and knees grew sore from standing in one place. The Sandaime was oblivious to her distress. How did these people live without magic? She could just conjure up an armchair, but no- Dumbledore had insisted that it would be offensive to use a blatant display of magic.

Suddenly, to her surprise, two fast-moving forms barreled in through the _window_ and skidded to a halt. One looked to be an adult, but young, maybe in his lower had gold hair, long on the sides, and an odd headband with the village emblem on it. He wore a green collared vest, which seemed to be the uniform of the shinobi here.

McGonagall looked over the other- his student perhaps?- and was rather startled to see a blade strapped to his back, the handle worn from years of use.

The boy with the sword on his back looked around slightly, and McGonagall caught a glimpse of his face. His hair was a bizarre silver color, and a black cloth mask covered up the bottom half of his face. He, too, had a headband, but it was pulled low over one eye, so that the most that could be see of his face was his other eye and ear. She couldn't help but wonder vaguely why he wore the mask- perhaps a disfiguration of some sort?

The boy didn't inspect her for too long. Instead, he followed the adult's lead and knelt on one knee before the old man. Perhaps this was the shinobi that he had summoned- the man looked strong enough, and he wore the regulation vest- but what was that boy doing her?

The adult shinobi with gold hair spoke up. "Namikaze Minato, reporting for duty."

The Sandaime nodded, looking up from his paperwork. "Ah, good. You brought Hatake Kakashi with you. And I've been meaning to tell you, Kakashi- spectacular work on that last mission. That was your fourth Unranked mission, correct?"

The boy with unruly silver hair- so that was Kakashi?- nodded. "Yes_, _Hokage-sama."

"Admirable. You are considering joining ANBU?"

"Perhaps in a year or so, Hokage-sama_. _I only just was promoted to Tokubetsu Jounin_._"

"Good, good- but I digress. Minato, I have a protection mission for your prodigy. It is classified as Unranked, and for now, you will not be joining him on this mission."

"I expected as much from your note, Hokage-sama_. _I'm sure he'll do fine."

"Naturally. However, this matter is of a secure nature, so I am afraid that you will have to leave us now. I will notify you of the rest tomorrow, at which point you may also talk to your student before he sets off."

"Yes, Hokage-sama." The adult shinobi made a sign with his hands and disappeared with a sudden flash of yellow light. It was like apparition, but silent. McGonagall frowned. Dumbledore hadn't informed her that these shinobi could Apparate. Perhaps there was more to the hidden villages than the magical community knew?

Well that was silly. Of course they had all sorts of secrets. Dumbledore was probably the only wizard alive who even knew about the shinobi continent.

All of a sudden, she realized what the Sandaime was talking about, and it hit her like a pound of bricks. Her voice was thin with disbelief.

"You're sending this _child__?"_

The Sandaime looked up and smiled_. "_What child?"

"H-him! He can't be more than twelve! We asked for your best, and three at the minimum, and you're sending a little boy?" She squeaked embarrassingly on the last word, and her ears turned pink.

The Sandaime gave her a knowing look. "You are quite mistaken, Ms. McGonagall. Firstly, Kakashi is eleven, not twelve. Secondly, Kakashi graduated from the Academy and became a legal adult at age five. He is currently at the same ranking as some of the best shinobi in the village. A bit of a prodigy, really."

"A single eleven-year-old is hardly enough for the most valuable stone in the world! Really, even if you think he is mature enough to keep things secret, these Dark wizards are more powerful that you can imagine, and-"

The eleven-year-old turned and looked at her with icy eyes. "Pardon," he said in a carefully neutral tone, "But I fail to see what, aside from my age, you are unsatisfied with? I have failed just one mission in my life, so it can't be my history. Pray tell, what do you look for in a guard. Someone in their twenties, perhaps, wielding a four-foot sword?"**[1]**

"I- don't-...Was that impertinence, young man?"

"In polite terms, yes, it was."

"Enough!" The Sandaime stood, pressing his palms to his desk. "McGonagall-san, Snape-san, you will take Kakashi or no one at all, and I assure you, he is one of the elite shinobi in our village. His services should be quite sufficient. "Kakashi, you _will_ be polite to your employers. Understand?"

Kakashi turned back to the Sandaime and knelt on one knee. "Hai, Hokage-sama."

The Hokage turned back to the two foreigners. "The two of you will keep Kakashi fully informed, despite his age. I assure you that he is fully able to handle it, and it will complicate the mission if you do not."

McGonagall looked slightly abashed, but either the man didn't speak Japanese or he didn't care, because he showed no emotion at the veiled threat.

"Erm, well, I shall return tomorrow at noon to pick up Kakashi-san. If you could brief him on the mission? Lovely," she said in a faux-cheerful voice.

She held out a sock to the slightly bemused Snape and disappeared with a _pop_.

* * *

**[1] I just noticed that this was a surprisingly accurate description of Zabuza...  
**

**Poor, confused Snape and his unfortunate haircut.**

**~ Crysanth**


	2. In Which: Kakashi Sets Off

**Chapter II  
**_In Which: Kakashi Sets Off_

* * *

Konohagakure in late summer was beautiful. The trees were green, the air was cool, the rooftops bright and welcoming for mischievous children. On a day like this, one could sleep peacefully, smiling in their dreams.

The day was getting late, and the two occupants of the Hokage's office were finishing up a long conversation detailing such odd things as wands, witches, wizards, cauldrons, and dandelions. It had lasted nearly three hours, and both Kakashi and the Sandaime were getting tired.

"So, in a nutshell, there's a magic rock, some Dark Forces, and a kid celebrity. And my job is to keep them from killing one another," confirmed Kakashi uncertainly, looking up at the Sandaime from where he was kneeling. His knees were getting sore- he had been kneeling for a while now. He would have to stretch when he got home or he would wake up with cramps in the morning.

The Sandaime looked slightly pained at his wording, and clasped his hands in front of his face, elbows on his desk in a conversational manner. "Well..., yes, I suppose that is technically correct, although it is a bit more complicated. For one, you'll be undercover as a first year student from Japan."

"Where?" A slight note of confusion escaped his voice at the unfamiliar term, but to his pride, no emotions showed on his face.

"Japan. It is a small oriental country on the Outside with customs and appearances very similar to ours here in Konoha, although they do not, of course, have shinobi or hidden villages." The Sandaime looked rather pleased with himself.

"Do you think you could fill me in on my background story?"

The Hokage smiled. "Of course. Forgive me, it slipped my mind earlier- I just find wizards so fascinating, I lose track of everything else." He cleared his throat. "You are Hatake Kakashi from Japan. As far as you know, your family are all wizards. You applied for 'Konoha Academy of Magical Discipline' and went there for one year when you were ten, and, with the highest exam grades in the school, you qualified for a scholarship to study abroad, at Hogwarts.

"The rest is up to you to improvise as you go. I'm sure you can come up with answers to all the questions the other students may have for you. Being new, you will be an object of some, if not much curiosity.

"Oh! Wait a moment, I forgot to give you these." The Sandaime reached in his desk drawer and pulled out a canvas-type sack, leaning over the desk to hand it to Kakashi, who peered inside

The top item that was visible was three or four scrolls. There was something else behind it, though, and he pulled it out. It was a porcelain ANBU-type mask, not in the shape of an animal head, but rather a plain white oval. The only decoration consisted of three scarlet streaks positioned diagonally across the front. It gave the extremely unnerving effect of a face slashed several times by a kunai, but Kakashi found himself appreciating its beauty anyway. He liked masks.

He _really_ liked this mask.

No, seriously. Just looking at it made him want to wiggle with joy.

He didn't, of course. That was not the sort of thing a Tokubetsu Jounin was supposed to do when having an audience with the Hokage.

Anyway... back to the conversation.

"The scrolls are for you to learn the wizard's tongue, English. With the Sharingan eye, it shouldn't be too tricky to memorize what is in them. It is imperative that you learn it as quickly as possible, but don't exhaust yourself."

"And the mask? I am not ANBU, so the mask is unnecessary."

"We can't have you being recognized when you are guarding the Stone. That would bring up some questions that you might find difficult to deflect. Since you will look very different in your school uniform, if wear this when you're on guard duty you should be unrecognizable, even by your fellow classmates. A masked and armored Kakashi would look very different from Kakashi the talented student."

Kakashi examined the mask. Emotionless. Smooth. Placidly frowning. _So awesome_.

He forced these thoughts out of his head.

"It would help if you henge-d your height and hair color as well, just to clear up any questions that might arise from stray clues."

"Arigatou, Hokage-sama. And- just one thing- you say that these wizards produce results, or 'spells' by manipulating the power from their magical core. I have no 'magical core', so I don't see how I can pose as a wizard, much less a talented one. Is there some trick that I don't understand?"

The mask had its own cold beauty, its own immovable heart. Kakashi traced the eye slits with his thumb, perhaps to distract himself from the growing urge he had to put it on.

The Hokage chuckled, "There is a trick. Because, as you say, you do not have a magical core, the wand will not resonate with you and amplify your power; however, it will be usable as a tool to shape your chakra. That is, it will be a prop, nothing more. Saying the incantation and exuding carefully meted amounts of chakra will allow you to perform the spell essentially to a suitable level."

"I see, Hokage-sama."

The mask. He wished his face was like the mask- unfaltering, emotionless.

"Send me reports every week via messenger hawk; I'm sending Hae with you. Students at Hogwarts tend to use owls for messages, so no one will be surprised to see you with a messenger hawk." The Sandaime whistled, and a powerful silver falcon alighted on the stand next to his desk.

He could imagine ice-cold eyes looking at a victim through this mask, just before death. He shivered. "And I need only to bring my ninja tools, you say?"

"Correct. All else will be provided for you by the client, Dumbledore. McGonagall-san will return to escort you there tomorrow at noon."

Kakashi thought for a moment, fingering the scarlet streaks on the mask. They were smooth and slightly textured under the cool surface. "Ano, you say... I may talk to Minato-sensei before I leave?"

"Briefly; a quick farewell would be best. The rest of your time should be spent packing your tools. It wouldn't do to forget anything. For example, it is nearly impossible to buy even a simple kunai on the outside. Make sure everything is in good repair from your last mission, as well." He looked at Kakashi warmly. "This is your first solo mission?"

"Hai, Hokage-sama. It is also the first mission I have been requisitioned for that is longer than three months in all."

"Well, if you pass this, you can consider yourself well on your way to becoming ANBU." The Sandaime hesitated fractionally, then said softly, "Your father would have been very proud of you."

Kakashi might have smiled sadly- it was difficult to tell under the hitai-ate and the cloth face-covering. Silently, with all the grace of a great shinobi, he bowed and left, again via window.

The Sandaime watched him leap from rooftop to rooftop, the retreating form tugging at his heart. Kakashi was an adult, yes, mature and as powerful as any shinobi. His hands, though they looked clean in leather gloves, were dripping, staining the ground with blood. An eleven year old shouldn't be on the Bingo Books of every powerful village on the Hidden Continent. An eleven year old shouldn't have to see his father and his best friend die before his eyes.

Kakashi shouldn't have bloodstained hands.

The Sandaime sighed and dissmissed the thought. They were in a war, and either way, more hands would be smeared red before the end.

* * *

The silver-haired Hatake slid open the door to his apartment, leaving his mud-caked sandals by the door. He wasn't quite sure how they had become so dirty. They had been clean when he was at the Hokage's office, and he hadn't touched the ground on his trip home.

Dismissing the thought, he limped over and dropped his leather bag on the kitchen counter. With an irritated twitch, he noticed that the unwashed dishes from his lunch still lay there.

Kakashi sighed absentmindedly and dumped them in the sink. He grabbed the sponge, giving them first a liberal coating of dishsoap and hot water, and began scrubbing viciously. The meal residue was viciously adhesive, but eventually, with the help of a couple kunai, he finally managed to chisel it off. He rinsed them and let them dry in the drain rack, wiping his hands on the dishcloth.

He sat down the the wooden chair by the table. His apartment was small, fairly clean, and sparsely decorated. There wouldn't be any sense in making it look like a home. In the past year, he had spent a total of two weeks actually living there. The rest of the time was for missions. There were three rooms in his apartment- a kitchen, a tiny bedroom with an attached closet, and a bathroom.

The kitchen, which he was in now, had a refrigerator, microwave oven, and sink on one side, and a small table with two chairs on the other. The walls were off-white and the floors were wood. In fact, the only decorations in the house were the two pictures on his bedside table.

He didn't like to look at them, but it didn't make a difference.

They were engraved into his memory, perfect shinobi that he was.

The first was of him, his father and mother. His mother was laughing, beautiful black hair cascading down over her shoulders, the slightest bulge of pregnancy showing through her dress. She was standing next to his father, who had his arm around her waist, his signature 'White Fang' hair tousled and unruly in the wind. His other arm was on Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi himself, just four, leaned happily into the embrace.

The second was of Team Minato- the real team Minato. Rin smiled sweetly, hands on her knees, hair falling forward, Obito was grinning comically, rubbing the back of his head like their sensei did sometimes. Kakashi, eight, looked emotionlessly on from behind his black mask, while Minato-sensei slouched, laughing in the background.

Kakashi tried not to look at those pictures, and the little voice in the back of his head told him, '_Shinobi have no emotions. Shinobi have no connections. Connections are threats. Threats are to be eliminated.'_ Still, he couldn't quite ever bring himself to throw the pictures away. They kindled a warm feeling inside him, like a small candle or something.

Like Obito used to.

He refused to hear the flicker of a thought, like he did whenever anything regarding his lost teammate came up. _'Forget him. Connections are threats, and threats-'_

_"_Are to be eliminated, I know," Kakashi muttered viciously, forgetting that he was alone in an empty apartment._  
_

Kakashi laid out his armor on the kitchen table, pulling an unbelievable amount of material from his bag. Shinguards, armguards, sleeveless metal plate armor, mask, metal-backed gloves, hitai-ate, kunai holster, vest, and- Kakashi hesitated for a moment. Where had he put his Summoning scrolls? He had put them in a separate bag, because there were quite a few, and he hadn't wanted one of them to get lost under his bed or something...

One upside of having a small apartment was that it wasn't difficult to find things. Kakashi rarely took the time to actually clean, so he ended up stuffing anything discarded on the ground into his closet.

Kakashi sighed and laid his sword on his chair before sliding open the door to his bedroom. Carefully avoiding the pictures on his bedside table, he used his left hand to open his crammed closet and stuck his head in. There was a pile of junk in there- shirts, unrolled bandages, muddy sandals, kunai, his lost shuriken holster, and one or two old scrolls. It only took a moment or two of prodding and scanning the pile of discarded materials before- _aha! _The scrolls! They were bundled together, just as he knew they would be after he tossed them in there when he returned from his last mission with Sensei.

He reached for them and hoisted them them over his shoulder- they were surprisingly heavy- when something orange caught his eye.

Obito's goggles.

Kakashi picked them up and exited the closet, dropping the scrolls as he did so. He hadn't seen the goggles since after the ceremony. He had brought them home, he remembered, because it was painful to see them rained on. He had put them away somewhere, the pain of Obito's death too raw to be touched upon so soon.

He hadn't seen them in almost a year.

A strange, small voice inside him- not the shinobi, but some part of him that connected emotions- wanted to bring it with him on the mission. He knew it was stupid, he knew it was useless and would slow him down. And yet- he still wanted them with him.

_No!_ he told himself violently, flopping onto the bed. _Shinobi don't have connections, and they don't have friends._

_It couldn't hurt- just as a reminder? _His other side pleaded.

_A shinobi is a tool, and it will become less effective if it is held back by emotions and connections. Our goal is to become the most effective tool possible, and all Obito ever did, even in death, was slow us down._

_No,_ his more human side argued. _In death, we slowed him down._

The sharp memory of Obito running back to him and shoving him away from the falling boulders brought stinging tears to his eyes.

_Shinobi don't cry! That's breaking the twenty-fifth rule of shinobi conduct!  
_

While his other self- (Looking back on it, he really should have been more concerned about these signs of schizophrenia)- was distracted at the breach of conduct he was committing, he slid the goggles into his bag and piled the scrolls atop it. He didn't want to forget his only friend. The Sandaime might have confidence in him- but he still needed backup.

He took his bag and walked back into the kitchen. He then took his short sword, designed specially to harness the Hatake white chakra. He wouldn't get any sleep tonight. He had to train. It was the only way to forget.

He began a pattern, slashing through the air as his feet moved of their own accord.

* * *

"We'll miss you so much, 'Kashi-kun! Write to us when you can!" Rin ran over and tackled Kakashi in a giant embrace, and then pulled away. "You look kind of... grim. Jeez, Kakashi, what's the big deal? You're wearing full armor!"

Kakashi knew he looked frightening. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt, bandaged at the wrists, which covered his plate metal sleeveless armor, and over that he had strapped his razor-sharp sword and his vest. He wore both armguards and shinguards, and his metal-backed gloves. He had his kunai holster on his leg and two shuriken holsters on his sleeve. He had to be at least twice as armed as most of the shinobi in the village.

"This mission is going to be dangerous, isn't it? Promise me that you'll be careful, please!" Her look of confusion turned to slight panic as Kakashi made to leave. "Please, Kakashi!"

He sighed and then nodded. "There's a high possibility."

She started to say something, and then stopped, and then began again, rummaging through her medic's bag. "I made something for you- I meant to give it to you on your birthday, but you were away on that mission to Lightning Country. It can be a going-away gift." She pulled a fisted hand out of her bag. "Hold out your hand."

He put out his hand, palm up, and upon it, she carefully placed a chain necklace with a small rectangular charm. A locket. Kakashi was suddenly very happy that he had finished all of his crying last night, because when he flipped it open, Obito's smiling face looked out at him, goggles and all.

Kakashi flinched. Inside the locket were the same two pictures that lay on his bedside table; the first of the Hatake family as it should have been, the second of Team Minato as it once was. Tears nearly formed in his eyes again, but the shinobi inside him beat them back. He snapped the locket shut with a sharp click, unclasped it, and, struggling for a moment, fixed it around his neck.

"You like it? I thought it might be too girly or something- I don't know you can never tell when it comes to jewelry, but I-"

He cut her off with what might have been a smile. "Thanks. And just one thing?"

She looked at him with soft brown eyes. "What is it, 'Kashi?"

"Stay safe while I'm away." He slid the white mask over his face, the red streaks glowing eerily in the midday light and turned away from the two well-wishers. "Please."

"Bye, 'Kashi! I'll miss you! Promise you'll write to me and sensei!"

He looked back at her, and she could see one coal-black eye through the slits in the mask. "I'll miss you too, Rin-chan."

"Bye, Kakashi," called Minato as he turned away and began walking down the dirt road. "Don't forget what's important!" His sensei's voice grew faint as Kakashi leapt from rooftop to rooftop, hair blowing in the wind.

"I know, sensei," he murmured. "I'll keep my eye on the prize. For our village."

* * *

Kakashi arrived at the Hokage tower exactly two minutes before noon. The hallways were crowded in the building, and, seeing as he was running late already, he decided that he should take the quickest route to the rendezvous in the Hokage's office and enter through the window. So he ran up the wall using chakra suction, ignoring the extreme heat, and quite literally _rolled_ into the Hokage's office.

"I do have a door, you know." The Sandaime didn't even look up from his papers as Kakashi knelt, shinobi-style, before him. "McGonagall-san will be here soon. You are prepared?"

Kakashi sighed. Military conversation always got on his nerves. 'You are prepared' instead of 'Are you prepared'. That crisp, ringing tone hurt his head, and all of the kneeling made his back sore as hell afterwards. He cleared his throat. "I have all of the materials necessary for the protection of the stone and Potter, Hokage-sama. I was told that my materials needed to pose as a student would be provided for me?"

A slight popping noise made Kakashi spin around, sword out, but he replaced it in its sheath when he saw the familiar pointed hat and spectacles of the McGonagall lady.

The Sandaime gave a little cough and he remembered his manners and bowed deeply. "Ano, good morning, McGonagall-san."

She jumped when he looked up. He wondered why for a moment before he remembered how odd his mask might look to her. Good. If she was having trouble recognizing him, so would students. "Why- what is that grotesque thing on his face?"

The Sandaime chuckled. "Well, McGonagall-san, when Kakashi here is working as a guard, the other students might be a bit surprised to see their classmate from Japan using ninja techniques. The idea is that they don't recognize him from behind the mask."

"He looks like a ghoul! But I do see your point. I do hope that it works; it would be rather troublesome otherwise." She paused. "There are two weeks until the new term starts. He will have to learn the rudiments of English for the translation spell to take properly. Will he be able to pick it up, do you think?"

"That is not an issue. Kakashi is fluent in all of our languages, and thanks to a little... shall we say, quirk of his, he has read through all of the scrolls you provided him with. He should be reasonably proficient, and after a little while, a translation spell will be completely unnecessary."

"A... quirk?" McGonagall echoed the words, rolling them around as if to get the feel of it. "What do you mean?"

Kakashi interrupted, speaking in accented English. "As per the mission requirements, McGonagall-san, I have done my best to become- ah, 'proficient' in your native tongue.."

"I- in one night? That's unheard of! It should take you nearly a year, even when not immersed in the language!"

Kakashi remained silent, but McGonagall saw the obvious implication even behind his mask. He wasn't going to tell her anything.

The Sandaime cleared his throat. He did it to end the unfortunate awkward silence that shadowed the room more than anything else. "Well, Kakashi, I expect you to do Minato proud on this mission. I'll send Hae over to you in a week-"

"Who is this Hae? I thought you said that Mr. Hatake was the only shinobi you were sending?" Her face brightened perceptibly. "Backup, then? It would likely be a good idea."

"Hae is a messenger hawk. She will be used only for carrying reports to and from the Hidden Continent. I assure you, McGonagall-san, Kakashi is more than competent." The Sandaime almost seemed amused.

By contrast, McGonagall seemed almost peeved, if that weren't below her dignity. "Is there anything you'd like to say to him before he goes?" She pulled a red sock from her bag and held it out to Kakashi. He took it with rather more trepidation than was strictly necessary- and who could blame him?

The Sandaime scanned Kakashi. "Nothing too prevalent to the situation. But... Kakashi-" The next words were so quiet that it was difficult to hear him at all.

"_Kakashi- I'm glad you're bringing the goggles._"

Kakashi, one hand on the sock, flinched and turned back to the Sandaime, but a sudden irresistable tug from the small woolen sock sent him spinning into oblivion.

* * *

**And yes, I know that Kakashi's father's sword was destroyed when Kakashi killed the ninja who killed Obito. I'm presuming that he had a new one made specially for his techniques. The fangirl part of me (which I try faithfully to suppress) likes the idea of Kakashi using a sword. It looks so much cooler than if he just used Chidori, in my opinion.**

**Review, my youthful allies!** **  
**

**~Crysanth**


	3. In Which: Myrtle Joins the Fanclub

**Chapter III**  
_In Which: Myrtle Joins the Fanclub_

* * *

Kakashi was a Jounin, and nearly at ANBU level. In his life, he had been in many situations that would have made a weaker shinobi snap. He had killed hundreds- innocent, guilty, convicted criminals, priests. He was a shinobi, and shinobi had no emotions. Shinobi were merely the tools of the clients they were bound to. Jounin were never angry, nor were they happy, nor frightened. His client would no more consider him a human with emotions and fears than he would consider it of his kunai. In all honesty, Kakashi hadn't felt much of anything in months.

That said, flying through the darkness blindly, his only point of reference a rapidly spinning (and somewhat fragile) sock, had him terrified.

Innately, his body recognized the darkness as a threat, and his Sharingan eye activated through the forehead protector wrapped around it. Where distinctive patterns of magic or chakra should have been lined up neatly, he was instead surrounded by incoherent swirls, ebbing and flowing around them in a reverse whirlpool pattern leading up to the sock. The sock itself was glowing brightly enough to hurt his eyes. It was a strange pale opalescent blue, like the Byakugan.

He opened his other eye and forcibly deactivated his Sharingan, trying to regain focus. After a few seconds, when his eyes should have adjusted to the poor lighting, all he could see was darkness as he spun with the sock, out of control. His one arm, stuck to the sock in some strange technique, was unable to protect him. His entire body tensed and then flailed wildly, trying to find an accurate center of balance, only to have his axis of gravity twist abruptly and throw him into the unknown territory once again.

A sudden flash of light, like a breath of fresh air, alerted him to the slow of their spin, and he loosened his tensed muscles by reflex- just in time to crash violently onto a (thankfully) carpeted floor. He had taken falls like this before; training with Minato-sensei wasn't fun _or_ easy. He instinctively relaxed and rolled upright, blinking in the sudden darkness. Odd.

Thankfully, his eye adjusted to this darkness in a matter of seconds. He turned and saw that McGonagall was regarding him with no little irritation. "That was the most violent portkey trip I believe I have ever taken. What on _earth_ possessed you to jump up and down like that, Hatake?"

He looked at her hand, still holding the small red sock, with extreme distaste. "It was... rather disorientating. I was attempting to locate my center of balance, but it kept changing. You wizards have irritating methods of travel."

"This is a delicate instrument, designed specifically for crossing over to the Hidden Continent," she said shrilly, waving the sock in his face. "It could have been permanently-"

He cut her off with a single motion of a raised hand and looked directly at the window. It was apparently night here, wherever they were. He eyed the moon through the opened secton. The curtains shifted innocuously in the breeze. Kakashi spoke in a tone that could pass as neutral, but bordered more on agressive. "I don't know who's there, but if you don't show yourself, I will eliminate you."

McGonagall shivered. The boy didn't look much like an eleven-year-old, armed to his fingernails with blades and that grotesque mask. The cold way he spoke, saying, 'eliminate' as casually as 'strudel', and the way he held himself; it looked as though he knew exactly what he was doing and was very, _very_ good at it. He crouched like a wild cat, twin knives sliding out from his sleeves.

There was a slight popping noise, and Kakashi twitched- no doubt the mask hid his flinch- as an old man in robes similar to the Sandaime's popped into view. "Very good, Mr. Hatake. I see that you are as competent, if not more so, than Sarutobi said. Welcome to Hogwarts."

Kakashi didn't lower his blades. The old man laughed. "I had forgotten how stubborn ninja can be. You don't need to worry- I am Albus Dumbledore, your employer. Minerva can confirm it."

"It wasn't a very good test."

Dumbledore evidently hadn't been expecting Kakashi to comment, as he raised his eyebrows slightly. "Pardon?"

"It wasn't a very good test. An academy student could have identified and neutralized such an obvious threat." One black eye stared out from behind the mask at Dumbledore, betraying no emotion. It was like looking at a ghost, or a puppet. "If you wished to judge my capabilities, you should have come up with something better."

McGonagall gaped at the blatant display of impudence, while Dumbledore studied Kakashi as though he had never seen anyone quite like him before.

Finally, Dumbledore nodded. "I would love to hear your opinions on the matter some other time; as for now, you can see that, although it was daytime in Konoha, it is nearly midnight here. You must sleep and get used to the time schedule."

Kakashi bowed deeply and said nothing, daring Dumbledore to try and include him in the conversation. Dumbledore seemed to realized that it was pointless to wait for him to speak and added, "I will inform you of your duties in the morning. For now, Minerva, would you escort him to the prepared chamber?"

McGonagall nodded once, lips tight, and Kakashi bowed low once more, knives mysteriously disappeared. "Hai, Dumbledore-sama."

"Come, Mr. Hatake," McGonagall said shortly. "I would like some sleep as well."

The ninja, though he would never admit it, was exhausted. After returning from a dangerous (albeit successful) mission in the middle of the night, gotten no sleep, trained hard all of the next day with Minato-sensei, and had again gotten no sleep. So although in his country, it was just past noon, he followed McGonagall out of the office with no complaint.

Arguing, he thought, could wait until morning.

* * *

He awoke the next next day to a dimly lit room. His inner clock told him that it had to be just nightfall, before he readjusted it to this Hogwarts time schedule. It would be... roughly six in the morning. Hn.

There was no way for Kakashi to validate this conjecture, as there didn't appear to be any windows in his room. For the most part, it was dull and dank, with a smooth stone floor. The only illumination was from the small sputtering torches that lined the wall, each casting pale yellow light in perhaps a half foot radius.

And the wizards called the shinobi primitive? At least Kakashi got up in the morning to something other than the slightly more comfortable equivalent of a medieval dungeon! The place was like one of Ibiki's torture chambers, only with a lot less blood. Torches? In a _sealed room_? Wasn't that the slightest bit impractical?

For a moment, Kakashi seriously considered the possibility that they were trying to kill him by suffocation, but quickly dismissed the thought. The wizards, he felt, were more showy. If they were going to kill him, they would have done it in an... exciting fashion. Locking him in a potentially deadly bedroom just wouldn't be up to their standards.

He felt around for the door, and then paused.

Shit.

Either they had drugged him, or he had lost his head overnight.

His sword was missing, and so was his bag, his porcelain mask, and his numerous shuriken. His Kunai holster was removed, and almost all of his hidden weapons. He felt almost naked without his tools, and suddenly the darkness made him feel overly vulnerable. In the slow, deliberate motions of a ninja who _would_ be frightened if he had less experience, Kakashi formed the half ram seal with one hand.

He condensed his chakra into a half ram seal, and a bluish light enveloped the room. His good eye immediately lit upon the glint of the red and white porcelain mask. Kakashi heaved a sigh of relief, only to catch himself halfway. He wasn't _that_ attached to the mask, was he?

Apparently so. Damn. If Obito were still alive, he'd tease Kakashi mercilessly. Acting like a nervous Genin just because it was dark in the room and he didn't have his mask with him. Not to mention that he must have slept for at least six hours, probably more, unarmed and unawares. If Minato-sensei had seen him, he would have had good reason to be ashamed.

_If I get like that permanently, _that_ is when I break down and kill myself._

He walked over to the pile of ninja tools anyway, and, releasing his seal, got dressed in the dark. There was no point wasting chakra_._ When he was ready to go, masked once more_, _he opened the door, wincing in the sudden light.

Time to explore.

* * *

Kakashi found that this Hogwarts was rather large. Actually, that was putting it pretty lightly. To be fair, the main building itself was nearly a quarter the size of Konoha, and the grounds (Which he saw out from a window) were large enough to to fit his entire village, including the Hokage monument.

He wasn't lost, exactly, just slightly confused as to his directional orientation. Never lost. Jounin do not get lost.

To specify; Kakashi Hatake did not get lost.

Ever.

Well, perhaps he had taken a wrong turn back at that last staircase- from the vague, sleep-deprived moments he remembered as McGonagall led him to that room, he couldn't quite recall. But wandering- even wandering for two and a half hours- does not qualify as lost, he told himself firmly. Not lost.

Kakashi laughed with a slight bitter edge to his voice. Stupid wizards. What on earth did they need such a gigantic castle for? From what Dumbledore said, there were only about a thousand students, and perhaps fifty staff members. Total. There was no point to putting chakra into inanimate objects.

Really! The things these wizards did just because they felt like it. There was no earthly purpose for moving staircases. If wizards wanted to get someplace, they could walk. Or, if they were really that lazy, they had enchanted their brooms to fly. And the suits of highly impractical and, from the amount, mass-produced armor had chakra pathways. There was magic in the walls, the carpets, the bathrooms.

Kakashi poked his head through another door and heaved a sigh. Another bathroom, damn it! You'd think that they'd only need so many, but it appeared that wizards held the same mentality towards bathrooms as they did everything else: Excess overrules all, including common sense and good taste.

He turned to leave when a sudden panicked shriek emanated from one of the stalls and he spun around, sword in hand. He was already forming some one-handed seals when he paused. The shriek had sounded like a young girl, thirteen at the most. What would a girl be doing here?

There weren't any students due to arrive until September 1st.

Growing steadily more uneasy, Kakashi edged into the room, blade out and shining in the light.

"Aaaaaugh!" Again, came the scream.

Kakashi turned as fast as was humanly possible, slashing at the air so that his sword looked like a flare of silver light, and saw...

Nothing.

Kakashi, now seriously disturbed, flipped up his hitai-ate, blinking Obito's eye violently. There was nothing, but a small trail of chakra was visible to the Sharingan eye. It wasn't quite defined, however. It was more... opalescent. That's when it hit Kakashi, and he relaxed a tiny bit.

"Nice try," he said, almost smirking under his mask. "But you can come out now... ghost."

Out of a bathroom stall floated the pearly white ghost of a girl about his age. She had pigtails and thick glasses, and she wore robes with a small badge on the chest. The ghost of a student?

To Kakashi's disgust, she _sniffled_ and eyed him. "Who are you? What are you doing in my bathroom? Why do you have that scary mask?"

Kakashi paused. "You live in the...the..."

"What's it to you?" She whimpered a little, rubbing her eyes as opalescent tears formed at the edges of her eyes.

"Well, it's not very..." Kakashi couldn't exactly say why he thought it was odd for a ghost to haunt the bathroom, but he assumed that it was rather out of the ordinary. It didn't seem quite as dramatic as he would expect from a ghost, especially a ghost that was once a witch.

"What is it with you? Walking into the girls' bathroom and then whacking around with that knife... not very friendly at all."

His ears turned the slightest bit pink. "It's a sword! It doesn't even look like a knife," he protested, as she raised her eyebrows higher and higher. She was starting to look like McGonagall. "And I didn't... this is the _girls' _bathroom?"

She got a look on her face, and Kakashi, to his shock, recognized it all too well. It was the same look that the civilian girls gave him in Konoha, flirtatious and slightly simpering. _Damn fangirls._"Oh... didn't you know? You could visit me sometime..."

"I... um..."

He turned tail and ran. Not very noble, perhaps, but it beat having that ghost added to his fanclub any day.

* * *

He finally managed to open a dusty window in a top tower and leaped out, walking down with chakra suction. He figured he had a fairly good map of the place in his head by now. Thank god. He was beginning to think that he would be wandering around that labyrinthine corridor forever. He had gotten stuck in no less than seven secret chambers, found twenty-three trapdoors, and _forty-seven_ hidden passageways.

Of these fourty-seven,

Twenty contained potentially dangerous animals,

Six contained instruments of torture (These brought Ibiki to mind, and he spent several minutes inspecting them, before deciding that they were useless unless properly maintained. They were rather out-of-date, as well.),

Two required the correct answer to a riddle to escape,

Thirteen held illusionary traps.

Four held copious amounts of chocolate,

One held something he thought might be a gnome,

and the one remaining passage contained all of the the above.

Kakashi had gotten out relatively unharmed, but he had a good inkling that, had some little unsuspecting first-year gotten stuck in one of those, he or she would have never gotten out. So... wizards had charmed staircases and broomsticks and suits of armor to entertain them, but they didn't train their students to evade traps?

Or perhaps they did, and Kakashi had yet to find out how. It was a rather mysterious situation all around. The one thing that he knew with absolute certainty was that he was going to finish the mission and get these wizards out of his life once and for all. The few wizards Kakashi had met so far were like the oil to his water- they just didn't blend.

First things first; he needed to find where Dumbledore was.

Which was why he was on the roof.

He crouched atop the needle-thin metal spire atop the tallest tower and looked around him, studying the enormous castle with a sharp eye. The castle seemed much smaller from the outside- he couldn't imagine where all those ridiculous passageways were stored. The tower he was on was the fourth-tallest, and there were at least fifteen others that he could see.

Outside of the castle, there were some greenhouses, presumably for growing medicinal herbs. It seemed like one of the only places in the whole school engineered for common sense. There was a lake to the fore of the castle, gray-green and rough, and the rest of the grounds were grassy and neatly trimmed to the edge of the forest. On the brink of the forest there was a small rock-and-wood hut, with smoke rising from the chimney. ('Smoke in the middle of summer?')

There was a strange field as well, with lines- was that paint?- marking certain areas. Probably some sort of sports field There were three long poles at either end of the field, and at the very top of the poles, at least fifty feet up, a small ring topped each one. There didn't seem to be anything else, but it reminded him of a training field or-

Or the arena for the chuunin exams.

Kakashi grimaced. It was not a fond memory.

* * *

_He had been barely injured at all. He had passed his first test, the written exam, with ease, partly because he knew several of the answers, and partly because of his proficiency at cheating. As for the terrifying 'tenth question'; he didn't care enough about his comrades to forfeit for them, so he stayed in. It was all fairly straightforward._

_In the Forest of Death, however, he was immediately targeted as a weak link, being just six. He had to kill several people, some of them comrades from Konoha, to save his own life and pass the test. While it was undeniably necessary, it was a heavy burden for him, and his team began to avoid him. The teammates and the mentors of the people he killed. Even friends, the test instructors, they all looked at him like he was a monster or a demon or something._

_The only one who stood by his side was Minato-sensei, and soon, people avoided his sensei too. That probably hurt the most. Most of them had been friends with sensei, comrades and allies. And now, if they weren't dead, they hated him with a passion. Simply because he had remained associated with Kakashi._

_The third part, the battles, was easy enough to pull off. He was up against the teammate of one of the people he had been forced to kill. She kept screaming at him, calling him a monster, a demon in disguise. She wasn't just fighting him- she really hated him. She was trying to kill him. He defeated her easily, but there was no satisfaction. In the silent room, not a single person clapped._

_And all he could hear were the echoes of her insane screaming. Demon. Monster. Heartless bastard. And he couldn't stop shaking, not even after Minato-sensei covered him in his jacket and herded him gently out of the arena._

_He hadn't watched the rest of the matches. He was in a state of shock, and could barely comprehend his sensei's soft meaningless murmurs- he was going to be okay, it was all gonna be okay, just rest a little, Kakashi. You need to eat something, Kakashi. It was thanks to Minato-sensei that he was able to participate in the next round at all. He didn't think that he'd have recovered in time without the certainty that, no matter what, his sensei was there. A smiling face, gentle hands._

_He participated in the tournament section and defeated his first three opponents with minor difficulties. It was only when he came to the final match, the championship match, that he had real trouble. His opponent was a Mist-nin._

_She had a particular keikei genkai of her clan, the Okomi, that allowed her to quite literally disperse into mist. The mist, which was poisonous and provoked bleeding wherever it touched the skin, was virtually indestructible. The keikei genkai that most shinobi dreamed of._

_It was at the point that Kakashi was entirely surrounded by the poisonous, blood-inducing mist, that it happened. His eyes were shut tight in an attempt to save his vision, but the mist was eating away at his eyelids. He would die soon, whether by losing his resolve and breathing the poison, or being eaten alive by the mist._

_He, six years old, formed the Ram seal, and took a breath. Black rushed across his vision, and blood dripped through his throat as the mist acted on his lungs. He centered his chakra, and whispered._

_"Kai."_

_From somewhere inside him, there was an explosion of chakra. The infamous white chakra of the Hatake clan rushed out of him in a sudden release of his own keikei genkai. The purple-blue mist was gone when the light receded, and in its place lay Okomi Tsubaki, the Mist-nin._

_She was dead._

_And, Kakashi, exhausted, collapsed on top of her._

* * *

He had woken up, a week later, to find Minato smiling at him, telling him that he was a chuunin now. Kakashi had broken down and cried, and Minato-sensei hadn't needed to ask why. Instead, he pulled the six-year-old closer in an embrace as tears soaked his vest.

With a sigh, Kakashi pulled his mind back to the present and tried to avoid looking at the odd arena. There was no use getting emotional over a grassy field. And, he thought with what was almost a smile, he highly doubted that wizards were into death matches for entertainment. They seemed more the hidden-chambers-filled-with-chocolate types.

Which begged the question: how on earth was he going to survive the next ten months?

* * *

**In response to a review: No, I'm not wrong. Kakashi really did make chuunin at age six. That is _canon_. Thank you for your understanding.**

**All proceeds from the reviews will go to support the efforts of S.P.E.W. (End Elf Enslavement!)  
**

**~Crysanth**


	4. In Which: Kakashi Blows Stuff Up

**Chapter IV  
** _In Which: Kakashi Blows Stuff Up_**  
**

* * *

"And we certainly didn't hire you to have you rampaging around the castle like a madman! Don't you know your responsibilities? Or do I have to discipline you myself? Professor Dumbledore shouldn't have to search the castle for you! I knew that taking you as a burden was a poor idea, but your _leader_ insisted that you would be proficient. If I could go back and tell that man what I thought of him... Well, I think this was a poor idea of a trick! To think that your precious Sandaime would sink as low as thievery-"

McGonagall was cut off in her shrill-voiced rant as a cold metal blade pressed delicately against her throat. Professor Dumbledore looked startled, indicating that he had not seen the ninja move either.

Kakashi, looking like a demon of death, had disappeared from where he was slouching at the other side of the room and reappeared not a second later, his sword drawn and at her throat.

"Don't. Ever. Insult. My. Hokage." he growled, his single eye flashing dangerously from behind his red-streaked mask. "He's not stupid enough to try and trick you- I am more than proficient, and I am a shinobi. Rest assured that I can do my job properly."

And then, before either of the wizards could blink, he was leaning against the wall again, sword in sheath, unmoving.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, but he didn't seem to know what to say. "Mr. Hatake, your agreement states that you will never harm any occupant of Hogwarts. We can consider that a breach of contract?"

Kakashi shrugged. "Depends on your point of view. I'd say that I was being lenient. McGonagall-san is unharmed, although perhaps a little startled. She is lucky." He paused. "Most self-respecting shinobi would kill anyone who suggested that their Kage was a thief. If I weren't absolutely certain that it wouldn't be to the advantage of my village, I would do the same."

McGonagall started. "Kill? That's- barbaric!"

His face was covered, but there was an audible hint of amusement in his voice when he replied. "A Kage is essentially a village's god. They have an advisory committee that can overthrow their decision, and the people elect him or her, but other than that- every shinobi in every village is completely and unshakably devoted to their Kage, whomever that may be."

There was silence in the room as she processed the idea that the old man in the robe and the cone hat and veil- the friendly, seemingly harmless old man- had a village of assassins who lived or died-or _killed- _by his word. "Well, I can understand loyalty, but- to kill? Isn't that taking it a bit too far?"

The eleven-year-old's voice was cold, and for a moment he sounded much older than he was. "Shinobi. The word means, 'to slay one's heart with a sword.' Literally, it is made up of the words for 'heart' and 'death'. Did you think, perhaps, that I had gotten to be a jounin without killing? Or that we were 'friendly ninja'? That we _arrested_ criminals and held _trials_ and put them in _jail_?

"Shinobi are, by their very definition, tools for killing. Shinobi Rule number seven; never hesitate to eliminate threats. A shinobi has five main purposes in life. First, loyalty to the village. Second, loyalty to the mission. Third, loyalty to the mission leader, Fourth, loyalty to your comrades, and Fifth, loyalty to your client. In that order.

"If the Hokage orders me to kill a criminal, I do so. If he orders me to kill the client, I do so. If he were, for some reason, to order me to kill my mission leader, I would do so without question or hesitiation."

Kakashi had seemingly gotten a bit too enthusiastic about his little speech about loyalty. McGonagall and Dumbledore were looking at him oddly, shock and grave concern on their respective faces.

Perhaps it was time to change the subject again.

Kakashi inspected his fingernails. "Forgive my lateness, McGonagall-san; I was overrun by a group of rabid bunnies. If you haven't met any, you should know that they can be quite vicious. Perhaps you should investigate," he mused, looking up, straight at Dumbledore. "I think I have everything you told me about the mission memorized. Is there anything more you need me for?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I would like to introduce you to the rest of the faculty at Hogwarts. If you could meet back here in an hour, Mr. Hatake?"

He nodded and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Mr. Hatake? Be careful to avoid the bunnies. I imagine the teachers and staff would be most unhappy if you were late."

* * *

Professor Sprout, rubbing her eyes wearily, walked into Dumbledore's office. Already assembled were Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick

"Oh, dear, am I the last one? I'm sorry, I didn't wake up until about five-thirty. I was up last evening observing the effect that the moon was having on my Venemous Tentacula. You noticed, I'm sure, Severus?"

Snape spoke in a cold tone. "I'm afraid that I was preoccupied. I did not have the free time to watch plants grow."

"What Severus means to say is that no, you are not the last here," said McGonagall dryly. "We are waiting for our lucky new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Quirenus Quirrell."

"Oh, so that's the fellow's name. He looked nervous- I don't think he'll last a month." Her face brightened. "Does anyone want to start up a betting pool?"

"Pomona!"

"I mean, I know that so far they've lasted well enough through to the end of the year, but this one looks particularly fragile. I think he's the nervous breakdown type."

"I think that he'll just quit," chimed in Flitwick. "I mean, the man is going to hear about what happened to Dirbenbach and he'll just snap. Poor fellow."

Professor McGonagall coughed slightly. "Well, that was a tragic event. Perhaps it's rather tactless to suggest a betting pool?"

"Oh, don't let us get to you, to, Minerva. Have some fun with Filius and me every once in a while. Dirbenbach recovered eventually, didn't he?"

"Well- I-"

"It's settled, then. We're going out for butterbeer on Thursday."

The four- well, the three friends plus Snape- had been chatting merrily for nearly five minutes and showed no sign of stopping until Dumbledore stood from behind his desk.

"Ahem. I must ask you to forgive me for stuffing you all in this rather small office at such short notice, but in times like these, sometimes stuffing must be done. I have received word from Professor Quirrell that he will not be joining us today, as he has some problems of an urgent nature that must be dealt with immediately."

Flitwick 'Hmm'ed in surprise and Sprout whispered 'told you' to McGonagall.

"I gathered you here to meet with Kakashi Hatake, a man I hired to help protect the Philosopher's Stone."

"What?" Professor Sprout was aghast. "But surely you feel that our protections are enough? I had a tough time growing that-" she fell silent with a look around the room.

"A few extra precautions may save us years of regret, Pomona. In any case, he should be here by now." Dumbledore sounded slightly troubled. "I can't think why he would be late again..."

* * *

As a matter of fact, Kakashi was, for the first time since Obito's death, not late. He had actually been early.

Instead of walking out the door and going to explore when Dumbledore had dismissed him an hour ago, he had used a translocation jutsu to land on the ceiling, and then used an Illusion Jutsu to make himself less noticeable. He had crouched there for nearly an hour, trying to gain information from hearing the teachers talk amongst themselves.

It was only when Dumbledore mentioned his name that he decided that the best course of action would be to join them. There wasn't anything useful in their chitchat, and they would only be annoyed at him if he showed up late.

The eleven-year-old jounin leaped from the high ceiling where he had been perched up-side down and landed smack in the middle of the group of teachers. Several of them screamed, and they almost all pointed those sticks- _wands_ at him. But they didn't attack, and so he stood up and bowed respectfully to his employer.

"Dumbledore-_sama_, you must forgive my lateness," he said in the lazy, neutral voice that said 'I don't really care if I've inconvenienced you, but I'm being polite, so you can't show if you're annoyed at me.' He loved using that voice.

Dumbledore smiled. "Ah, Hatake-san_._Thank you for joining us."

Professor Flitwick gaped, looking slightly ridiculous as he stared at the shinobi's outlandish mask and hair. "Why- he couldn't be more than a child, Headmaster! How could he protect..._it_?"

Kakashi didn't move his gaze from Dumbledore's, or show that he had heard the tiny man speak at all. That was what you did with these types- you ignored them and then proved them wrong at your convenience.

Dumbledore didn't seem to be acquainted with Kakashi's tactic. Perhaps here one didn't go about gaining the respect of his professors by defeating them in a duel? In any case, the old man seemed to feel that he needed to _defend_ Kakashi from their ridiculous objections. Didn't the man know anything about proper negotiation?

"There you are mistaken, Filius. I assure you, Kakashi is a full adult in his village and among the elite." Dumbldore's smile widened and his eyes twinkled mischevously. "Mr. Hatake is a ninja."

Kakashi turned and bowed to the startled teachers. "Good evening," he said in his best quasi-friendly, 'Mess with me and you will meet with a horrible and untimely demise,' voice.

Professor Sprout flinched and gave a little shiver. "What? He-he-" She raised a trembling finger to his face where the white and red mask grimaced horribly at them. "What is he?"

Dumbledore looked up and raised his eyebrows, still smiling. God, did the man ever _stop_ smiling? "Mr. Hatake, I'm afraid I must ask you to remove your mask. We tend not to trust those who keep their faces covered around here."

Kakashi sighed openly. "It is necessary to the mission?" He had grown rather attached to his mask in just a few days, and he didn't like the idea of removing it. It shielded him from the world, if only by a thin layer of porcelain.

"Yes."

Damn. He looked at the thick purple carpeting, then reached up to his face, and slid the mask down. Sprout and Flitwick gasped violently.

"He's a child." It was Snape, and Kakashi shot him a look of annoyance. Snape had been with McGonagall when they hired him, he would have already known Kakashi's age. Saying it in front of the other teachers so bluntly only served to induce doubt regarding his abilities to protect the Stone from Dark magic. It was pointless.

"He couldn't be older than ten! How is he supposed to protect the Stone?"

"If this is a joke, Dumbledore, I'm not laughing!"

Ugh. Kakashi sighed audibly and pulled up his _hitai-ate_ to reveal his Sharingan. The angry cries of the teachers died away into silence as he inspected them each with the blood-red eye, _tomoe_ spinning slowly.

He couldn't actually see the chakra pathways, but Obito's eye, giving him extremely sensitive sight in addition to his hearing and sense of smell, gave him an acute idea of what their energy felt like. They didn't have chakra pathways, he was surprised to see, just a small pool of bright color that slowly oozed out of their fingertips, their eyes, their mouths. Could it be the magic that he had heard so much about?.

Hn. Wasteful. But to his surprise, the 'magic' seemed to be... replenishing itself. It was like an underground spring that never ended, a constant pool bubbling up from somewhere inside them. Did that mean that they could produce an unlimited amount of jutsu without waiting for their chakra to replenish?

"What is that!"

He turned to the speaker of the startled objection. It was the short, squat, frizzy-haired witch who had suggested a betting pool. "Ah. Professor Sprout, is it?"

"U-um. Yes." She was looking honestly curious, and slightly nervous.

Kakashi hated curious people. Why did she think he wore his _hitai-ate _like that, if not to avoid unwelcome questions about his sharingan from pesky people? It wasn't exactly a fashion statement.

He gave her the answer in his top-notch **'Leave me now and perhaps I will consider the notion of leaving your corpse in one piece after I strangle you and give you to my nin-dogs as a plaything**,' voice.

"Well, Professor Sprout, this is a Sharingan."

She kept stuttering. Apparently she didn't know not to irritate a jounin from Konohagakure.

"B-but, why is it- what does it-"

"Why isn't my other eye like this? Because this eye wasn't mine originally." Damn. He really didn't want to talk about this. His eye wasn't his originally. It was Obito's. If he stopped to think about _that_, about how Obito insisted on giving him a gift for making jounin, how he ran back to shove Kakashi away from the falling rocks...

"You took someone else's eye?"

He shut off the stream off memories. She just didn't know when to give up. "It was a gift from a friend."

"But-"

"I lost my eye in battle, and someone offered me this one in replacement. Any more questions?"

"What does it-"

"-do? Well, it does a number of things. None of which I am going to tell you now. Thank you. Any more questions that are relevant to the topic on hand? Any at all?"

She looked rather put out that the eleven-year-old was speaking to _her_ as though she was the child. "Why on earth is a ten-year-old guarding the Stone?"

Kakashi rolled his eyes, giving a rather unsettling effect with the Sharingan. "I'm _eleven_, not ten. But more importantly, I am a high-class shinobi of Konohagakure no Sato in the Country of Fire. I am, by all the laws of my people, an adult. I support myself, I work for a living, and I am my own guardian. I live alone. Is that enough to qualify as an adult for you, Professor Sprout?"

"No, it isn't. I'm not going to have the Stone fall into the wrong hands because a first-year thinks he can-"

Kakashi narrowed his eyes. "Then how about this; of a total of 2,671 missions I have completed in six years, I failed one. _One_. Three-fourths of those missions were A-ranked or higher."

"Well-"

"What else do you want to know? I was the youngest ever to pass the genin, chuunin, _and _jounin exams, and within a few years I hope to become the youngest ANBU. There are maybe ten shinobi in my entire village who can beat me. I have more qualifications, if you want to hear them, but I think I've made my point."

And indeed it seemed as though he had. None of the teachers made a move to stop him as he made the necessary seals for a translocation jutsu and disappeared in a swirl of leaves.

* * *

The teachers were startled, to say the least.

"That was Apparition- inside the school!"

"What have you brought to Hogwarts, Albus?" Flitwick's voice was tremulous, eyes wide. "Did you see the look on his face? That was hate- he's a monster of some kind."

Dumbledore smiled tiredly. "You must forgive Kakashi his rudeness, Filius. He is simply rather stressed at the moment. He is in different surroundings and speaking a different language. Where he comes from, he is very highly respected, and he finds it belittling to be treated as a child when he has proved himself in battle many times over."

"But- Albus, his eye! We don't know what magical powers it may have-"

"Enough! I have it on good authority that Mr Hatake is a trustworthy and intelligent young man. We have no reason to distrust him, and his history is quite extensive. We will have no more discussion on the matter." The Headmaster's voice had a ring of finality, and the professors seemed to see that it was useless to argue further.

Outside the window, Kakashi sighed. It seemed that wherever he went, people were determined to think ill of him.

_A shinobi has no emotions, _the cold voice in his head reminded him. _Are you a shinobi, or a civilian with chakra?_

Dumbledore had given him permission to wander the grounds, and he was beginning to get a map of the castle in his head. He eyed the 'Forbidden' forest curiously. If it was forbidden, there had to be _something_ interesting in there. He needed somewhere to train. There didn't seem to be any reason as to why not...

Kakashi slid his mask over his face and leaped off of the side of the tower, hurtling towards the ground. He landed lightly, frightening a scrawny tabby cat, and ran leisurely towards the forest.

It was time to train.

* * *

Kakashi looked around the clearing. For a place with a name like 'Forbidden', it seemed pretty tame. So it was dark and dank, and there were a few spooky noises, but he'd been there for an hour and nothing had attacked him at all. It was a pity; he had been looking forward to sparring with some large animals, but so far, there was nothing bigger than a deer.

He took off the porcelain mask again and laid it in the tree roots, before unpacking the rest of his things. Scrolls- check. Senbon- check. Weapon cleaning tools- check. Kunai, shuriken, sword, ninjen, weights and bandages were also included.

Kakashi lifted his sword. It wasn't nearly as good as his father's had been. The balance was off, and it took much more focus to harness the white chakra. His moves were slower and it drained more energy than ever before. It was like moving through molasses- while he still moved at speeds untraceable by the normal human eye, to an enemy ninja, it could very well be the opening that they were looking for. Split-second reaction times were life and death for a ninja

He needed to become better, or he would die.

Well, that was always a good training incentive. He took a deep breath, focusing blindingly white chakra through his sword and condensing it to a deadly force. That was the easy part. The next part decided his life or death.

He began the patterns, releasing the inner flow of chakra steadily, but taking care to form the bright white mass into an edge. A deadly blade that could sever even chakra strings if he could focus it correctly. He increased the pace of his movements, lunging, slashing, biting.

Forgetting.

He lost himself in the flow of the chakra- no. That wasn't quite it. It was more... he _was _the chakra. He was the driving blade in the hands of a killer. He was _part _of the killer, part of the blade, part of the chakra, and all of their moves were one and the same. He was laughing as he decimated the trees around him from the pure _exhilaration_ of the moment.

He had so much power he couldn't spread his mind across it, and he was laughing. He was laughing harshly, in a way he hadn't laughed before. He was looking out over the whole forest, the whole _world_, bathed in a beautiful white. Who was he? He didn't know. He didn't care. He was the whiteness, the power, the destruction.

He was everything. He was reveling in his newfound power. He couldn't remember, and he didn't care. There was only him and-

In the midst of his loss of control over his mind, he accidentally kicked over his bag, and out tumbled a pair of orange goggles.

Obito's face, smiling, then bloodied, then screaming, then crying, then laughing. A series of emotions fluttered to the surface of his mind, disturbing the placid smooth _white_.

He paused, and then it snapped. The tenuous concentration on his blade slipped for just a moment. The power slipped away from him, and he lost control with a quiet _snick_.

Kakashi flew backwards as an explosion of white engulfed all the nearby area in an impossibly bright light. He slammed into the ground, hitting hard and blacking out for a few seconds as the pain hit him.

It was agony, partly from the landing, and partly as the chakra burned the inside of his head. Pain shot up his spine, and he couldn't draw a breath. His vision went white, and freezing light hit his lungs, turning his insides to ice. Kakashi struggled to stand as his grip on consciousness faltered and red and black dots covered up the whiteness.

He collapsed, and the light ebbed, returning almost to normal. He lay in the dirt for a few minutes. It was painful to draw breath, and there was a sharp stabbing sensation in his side whenever he tried. His head pounded hard, like drums at the spring festival.

_Well, now I know how Okomi Tsubaki felt when I killed her in the final round of the chuunin exams. I didn't know that the white chakra was so powerful._

Finally, he lifted himself up to a sitting position and surveyed the damage. He didn't seem to have any broken bones, but his ankle was almost definitely sprained. Damn. His back and shoulder, which had taken the brunt of the fall, were already forming dark purple bruises. He was lucky- there wasn't much internal bleeding, and he wasn't seriously cut. If it weren't for his shinobi training, he would have broken his neck for certain. As it was, he had twisted in midair by instinct and was reasonably unharmed.

The clearing, on the other hand, was completely demolished, although by some grace of god his weapons were still intact. They were scattered around the nearby area in various states. He shuddered. A dented kunai, driven by the force of the explosion, had embedded itself in the ground not two inches from where his head had been.

He stood and limped across the clearing, collecting his weapons and inspecting the damage. The pain was nothing he hadn't felt before, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. He focused chakra in his ankle to hold back the pain, but as he wasn't trained in medical jutsu, there wasn't much that he could do.

He perched on a fallen tree, cleaning his weapons and placing them back in order. He could continue his practice another time.

The goggles were in his hands. Orange and obnoxious as ever. And yet- Kakashi felt that Obito had saved him again. If he had gone on in his insane rampage, he would have lost control. But by that time, not only he, but the entire forest would be razed to the ground. Obito. Damn that kid, wouldn't he leave Kakashi alone even beyond the grave?

Kakashi rolled his eyes and said aloud, "If you're looking for a thank you, you won't get one."

He looked around the clearing, and, spotting a rock that was split entirely in two by the explosion, hobbled over. He took a kunai out of his pocket and picked up the flat slab of stone. It was heavy, but he managed to prop it up next to the only tree still standing in the entire clearing. It was sunny now, thanks to the lack of trees, and it shone brightly on the rock.

Kakashi focused a small, extremely condensed bead of chakra on the tip of the kunai. He used normal chakra- he didn't even want to try harnessing the white chakra in his state. Touching the tip of the knife lightly to the stone, he wrote neatly in Kanji:

**_Shinobi of the Leaf- In Memoriam_**

_Hatake Sakumo_

_Hatake Aki_

_Hatake Akemi_

_Uchiha Obito_

With a sigh, Kakashi bowed in respect and pocketed the kunai. At this point, with the war at home becoming steadily bloodier, he could only hope that his list didn't get longer.

* * *

**This chapter has a dedication! Actually, it has two. Two stupendous reviewers. Firstly, 'Lvmj' has reviewed three times, once for every chapter. You ROCK. No kidding.**

**Secondly, 'Ilovebleach102012'. She (I'm assuming you're a she from the profile) sent the review that inspired this chapter. So you have only her to thank that you're getting this chapter almost a week early. Go on. Thank her.**

**Also, I know that the white chakra isn't technically that powerful, but that's just what I think might happen if Kakashi lost control. You know. Complete and utter devastation. Fun, right?  
**

**Review? I live off of reviews. And you don't want me to die before I finish the story, do you?  
**

**~Crysanth**


	5. In Which: There is a Singing Hat

**Chapter V  
**_In Which: There is a Singing Hat**  
**_

* * *

Harry stood next to Ron, slightly uncomfortable in his school robes. They were a bit too...breezy down under. None of the other students in the group were showing the slightest bit of discomfort, however, so he toughed it out. Hagrid, on the steps in front of them, pounded three times on the huge oaken front door. Harry was reminded of what Hagrid had done to the door of the Hut on the Rock, and was really rather surprised that this one didn't fall in, too.

There was a resounding creak, and the doors swung in. An elderly black-haired witch with a stern face surveyed them all. Her welcoming smile looked rather forced to him, and he couldn't help but wonder if it had anything to do with the student standing next to her.

He wore the school uniform- black robes, cloak, black shoes, and not a thread was out of place, but his face was positively _weird_. He wore a black cloth mask that covered half of his face, and a black headband with a metal piece on the front engraved with a swirl symbol. It was pushed down over one eye, so that all that could be seen of him was a single, _bored_ dark eye. Harry could only imagine what Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon would say to such a blatant abnormality.

His hair was, if possible, even more peculiar. It sprang up at odd angles, and, along with that, was _silver!_ Harry looked again at the kid. He was certain that he couldn't be much older than he or Ron, so why hadn't he joined the first years on the train? A scenario involving wands and Quidditch accidents popped up in his head before he squashed it down with considerable force. Perhaps he had missed their train?

Judging by the titters around him, Harry wasn't the only one wondering that, but before anyone could get up the courage to ask the student or the stern witch directly, she spoke.

"Thank you, Hagrid. You may go to the feast- I will take them from here." Her voice was clear, crisp, and no-nonsense.

"Oh, er... All righ', then." Hagrid seemed a bit flustered to see the student. Why was that? He turned to Ron, but he was looking at least as confused as he was himself.

It was actually Hermione, the bushy-haired girl who spoke up first, although she didn't seem to know exactly what she meant to say. "Excuse me, um, ma'am, but I was just wondering if- who..."

She subsided, red-faced, after trying and failing to find a polite way to ask, "Who is that guy?"

The stern-faced witch smiled, and it looked like a real smile this time. "I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress, head of Gryffindor house, and transfiguration professor. This young man here," her smile faltered slightly, "Is Kakashi Hatake, a foreign transfer student. Dumbledore will give you the full details after the Sorting ceremony."

There was much excited whispering, and the red-headed Ron hissed, "Harry! Maybe he'll be in our year!"

"Doubt it, it's not really a transfer if he's a first-year." Kakashi, Harry saw, looked faintly annoyed. Maybe it was the many gawking first-years? But why would he be annoyed at a few curious students? An abrupt memory of the gaping witches and wizards in the Leaky Cauldron, however, made him sympathize with Hatake deeply.

"Ahem." The quibbling students fell silent at McGonagall's gentle reprimand, and she spoke again. "Here at Hogwarts, there are four houses for each of the four Founders..."

* * *

Kakashi tuned McGonagall out as she began her little speech. There were lots of lame little threats and bribes in there about obeying. He snorted internally. If Minato-sensei were here, he could straighten them all out in seconds. It was pathetic how hard these teachers tried. House points. A House cup. Surely none of the students were stupid enough to accept their little ruse?

But it seemed that he was wrong. The students were lapping up this stuff- fame, glory, honor for the House. Didn't they know that anyone who had true honor was dead? The only true honor was dying for something you cared about. But these students wanted to think that honor and glory was turning in your homework on time and getting 'House points', or not getting into trouble so that they wouldn't lose 'House points' for their house. There was excitement in their eyes.

In Konoha, every student who entered the Academy was told to behave or get lost. The teachers didn't waste their time teaching stupid students or students that didn't want to learn. Big infractions got you tossed out on your rear end. Even minor infractions tended to be avoided when your teachers were all high-level shinobi who could tie you up and have a kunai to your throat in the time it took you to say, 'I don't wanna.'

Students weren't given presents if they showed respect; they really did look up to and honor their teachers. In Konohagakure, you were trained to respect anyone who could kill you.

If it worked that way here, he thought wistfully, he would have the undying loyalty of every single student and teacher in the place.

But- bribing the students? This was a new technique to Kakashi, and he didn't like it one bit. What happened when the students decided that they didn't care about the 'House cup' after all, and that they would rather skip out on lessons? They wouldn't learn anything. They wouldn't mind their teachers. The system had so many faults he couldn't count them all.

He scanned the students and caught sight of his new charge, Harry Potter. The kid was scrawny, possibly malnourished, and pale. He had green eyes, and his black hair stood up in tufts, like it had never been combed. He wore round glasses that made him look even smaller than he already was.

He looked a little like Obito.

Kakashi shoved the though from his head. _Shinobi have no emotions. Shinobi have no emotions. Shinobi have no-_

McGonagall coughed. "Ahem. Mr. Hatake?" She was giving him the look that meant that she intended to affirm her superiority over him in the most degrading fashion possible, and she expected him to go along with it. Hn. Well, she would see about that.

"Oh. What?" He had been listening to the speech, with everyone else, but had pointedly pretended to be studying a tapestry of a griffin. At least this one didn't move. The other pieces of art in the castle had a tendency to be decidedly unnatural, several of them inviting him to play cards or pointing out secret passages that he hadn't noticed.

"I said, I will be back in a moment to take you all to the Sorting. If you would join the First-years while you wait?" She sounded slightly smug, like she thought he wouldn't dare defy her in front of the students. Like he cared.

"Why, McGonagall-san?"

"Because _I asked you to, _Mr. Hatake." The implication was clear- disrespecting her in front of the students would instigate rebellion, or at least something like that.

Well, rebellion was her problem. "I see no reason why I shouldn't remain here, McGonagall-san. After all, a few feet could hardly make a difference, and it's crowded enough down there."

She made a puckered face and gave him a glare. A '**get down there before I dismantle you and leave your skull on my desk to be an example for other students**' glare. It was complete with narrowed eyes and resolve. Damn, she was good.

But then, he had gone to the academy with two Hyuuga and an Uchiha. Hell if her little teacher look was going to force _him _to socialize. In return, he gave her a glare that he had learned from Hiashi. It was still a prototype-he hadn't tested it thoroughly- and he lacked the especially terrorizing bulging chakra veins around the eye, but it could spark insanity in a civilian and distract an opponent. To his disappointment, he had found that it had no effect on Gai. He called it the **Revised Hyuuga Death Glare_._**

She countered almost immediately with a very well designed '**I will have my O.W.L. students eviscerate you and then mince your corpse into tiny little pieces and the leave the pieces out in the rain for students in Potions to harvest fresh maggots from** glare. It was nasty, really good quality, and dangerous.

He wasn't quite sure if he could withstand this one. It was deadly. In a split-second decision, he used the legendary Hatake clan counterattack- the proverbial ace up his sleeve. It was risky but he would have to give it a go; the legendary tactic of- ignoring.

He paid her no heed and turned back to the tapestry of the griffin.

"Mr Hatake!"

He didn't turn around. "Yes?" Success.

She opened and closed her mouth for a while, looking like a drowning fish, and turning an interesting variety of colors, before subsiding to a pale fuchsia color. After a little waiting and no response, she trailed off and left the room, and the kids burst into excited (and very bratty sounding) whispers. Little idiots.

Now that McGonagall was out of the room, it seemed the kids felt they were free to create undiluted chaos until she returned to take them to the Sorting and the feast.

"Hey, Hahtakay!" A skinny blonde kid with horrible pronunciation called out his name. "Where are you from? My father didn't say that there would be a transfer student at school this year, and he has contacts in all of the important Ministry departments."

God, who the hell was this little snot? Kakashi looked at him, eye half closed, and looked away again. Some people just weren't worth answering, and this kid was one of them.

But the bratty blond gaki didn't seem to get the message- that is, to shut up and sit in the corner before Kakashi made up his mind to kill the kid. What was one less idiot in the world, anyway? Unfortunately, killing brats was against the contract and therefore, it was not a very good idea to fantasize about it.

His voice was high, and squeaky, and, for a kid who apparently was both stupid and scrawny, ridiculously smug. "Why is your face covered? I think we all have the right to see who it is we're talking to. Take off that mask."

Who did he think he was? "No," Kakashi told him in his most discouraging tone, and resumed inspecting a tapestry.

"What?"

"No. I said no. _Nein. Non. Iie. Aqh áho._ Nope, nuh-uh, not a chance. I am speaking your language, correct, _gaki?_"

The blond looked slightly confused at the foreign word, but evidently decided to ignore the potential insult in favor of sounding obnoxious and extremely arrogant (although, that probably would have been the case even if he had studied Japanese.)

By now, all the students were watching excitedly as two oafs (Big and Ugly, he dubbed them) blundered towards Kakashi, apparently attempting to look threatening. He shrugged, and, slowly and deliberately, turned back to the tapestry. It seemed that Big didn't know quite what to do now that Kakashi wasn't quaking in his ridiculous robes, and Ugly looked the same. Stupid, that is.

"Well? What are you waiting for? I said take off his mask!"

Who was this stupid little blond to be shouting orders? And in such a ridiculous high voice, too. Kakashi named him 'Squeaky' in his mind- that was honestly the best word for him.

Big and Ugly walked over, cracking their knuckles, and swung.

They were so slow that Kakashi laughed aloud. He sidestepped Big's blow and ducked Ugly's, and both blows hit the stone wall point-blank, to their screams of pain.

Kakashi was standing behind Squeaky now, and he whispered in his ear, "How about _you _try taking off my mask?"

Squeaky squeaked, and the rest laughed. Kakashi returned to his observation of the tapestry. It was a work of art, that was for certain. The threads were vibrant and the needlework was skilled- he almost wished that the griffin could move like the portraits could. It would look stunning, flying high in the azure sky.

It was even more enjoyable in the abject silence that followed Malfoy's shaming.

* * *

Not five minutes later, another unwelcome disturbance came along. There were shrieks from the first years and a familiar aura surrounded him.

Shit.

A battalion of ghosts floated though the wall, talking merrily. They pretended to be taken aback when they saw the first-years, but Kakashi knew that was just for effect. They had been looking forward to the first-year's arrival all summer. He scanned the group, but it was so jumbled that Kakashi couldn't tell which ectoplasm belonged to which ghost.

All the same, he was just beginning to get his hopes up when-

"He-ey, Kashi!" An opalescent mass of fangirl with pigtails drifted over. Far over. As in, uneasily close.

Kakashi looked the other direction. If he couldn't reason with the ghost (and so far reasoning had proved unsuccessful) then perhaps ignoring her would work. "Get lost, Myrtle."

"Awww... that's not nice. But you don't really mean it, do you?" She gave him a flirty smile and shifted slightly closer.

"Yes, I do. I want you to get the hell out of my life as soon as possible." He gave her his '**Patent Pending: Hatake Glare #12**', but she was unfazed. Damn. He had forgotten that fangirls were typically immune to all but the nastiest.

"That's so cute! You're too shy to admit your love in front of all of these people. I love you, Kakashi." She batted her eyelashes furiously, giving the impression that she needed to clean her glasses or something.

"Go away, Myrtle." She stayed stubbornly seated, but broke into a smile.

"My first name! Oh, I'm honored, 'Kashi. I knew felt something for me!"

"Yes. At the moment, it's extreme annoyance. And I don't _know_ your last name, baka."

"It's Blake. Myrtle Blake. Although, I would say Myrtle Hatake has a nice ring to it as well..."

"Would you _quit stalking me?_" He leaned away and she scooted closer.

"Why haven't you asked me out yet? Is it because you think I'm not ready for commitment? 'Cause I am."

"Leave me alone!"

She _snuggled _up to him, giggling, and he was hard-pressed not to put a kunai between her eyes. He backed into a corner, the first-years laughing uncontrollably at his woe. Brats.

He couldn't use any extremely destructive powers in front of the first-years, it would blow the mission before it even started. His mind raced as Myrtle became increasingly _aggressive _in her affection. Kunai and shuriken didn't work on them either (he had tried several times) and while ghosts seemed to be able to do no real harm, his pride was taking a severe blow.

"Miss Blake! Mr. Hatake! That is inappropriate behaviour for public areas!"

Damn that witch. McGonagall had taken him by surprise and caught him at a moment of weakness, and had successfully destroyed _his_ reputation just as thoroughly as he had destroyed hers. The first-years seemed to be going into hysterics. This was not good.

In the effort of keeping up his charade, he didn't go full force on her.

True, he gave her the **Uchiha 'Forbidden' Glare**, with just the right amount of disdain and deadly hatred, and completely no emotion aside from the eyes, but it wasn't nearly as potent as it could have been. First, he was not an Uchiha, all of whom (with the possible exception of Obito) were arrogant bastards. Second, he didn't have his Sharingan showing. Oftentimes the slowly spinning tomoe in the blood red irises were what really pushed his victims over the edge.

All the same, McGonagall let out a barely noticeable shiver and looked away quickly. He appreciated her self control; it would only have complicated the mission if she had run screaming from his presence.

"Follow me; it's time for the Sorting!" Her voice was unaffected, but her lips were pursed.

This intruiged Kakashi still more- as far as he knew, no one had ever escaped the **Uchiha 'Forbidden' Glare** unscathed. Perhaps this persnickety old witch was more than she looked? He didn't have the time for further pondering as the giant unnecessarily dramatic oak doors swung open and the wave of first-years pushed him along into the Great Hall.

* * *

It was more crowded than he had ever seen it. In the week he had been at the castle, he had only seen one or two staff members eating lunch there. Never more than ten people sitting at the wood tables.

Now it was full to the brim with happy, laughing students and gold dishes. It gave Kakashi a headache and he tried his best to hide amongst the many gaping first-years. He felt to be years older than these naïve little kids, although in reality, some of them were probably older than him. They talked about trivial things- scary teachers or food.

That first one made him snicker aloud when he had heard it. Some of his teachers had been truly terrifying- the kind who kept torture instruments hanging on the walls as decorations, the kind who could kill a grown man with two seconds and a toothpick. But the _really_ frightening ones were the teachers who appeared normal, but could torture you psychologically until you became immune or quit.

These teachers were like puppies and kittens compared to his teachers. Admittedly ugly puppies and kittens, but harmless all the same.

McGonagall brought the Sorting Hat and a stool to the front of the room. Dumbledore had explained it all to him beforehand. The Sorting was an important step in his plans, and it wouldn't do for his plans to go astray so early in the mission.

The Hat began to sing. Thankfully, Kakashi had been warned of this, so he didn't flinch or do anything embarrassing of that sort, thankfully. He listened vaguely as the other kids did more startled whispering.

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter Hat than me..."_

But, Kakashi reflected, a hat didn't matter much; it was the person wearing it that was important. And the hat, while apparently very clever, didn't seem to have much musical skill. The high-pitched voice was so off-key it was making his ears throb. Not for the first time, Kakashi cursed his extra-sensitive hearing and smell. While his sensory augmentation was useful in theory, they created just as many problems in day-to-day life as they solved in the heat of a battle.

There was enthusiastic clapping- apparently that Hat passed for a decent musician in the wizards view, or perhaps they just liked the novelty of a singing hat- and Kakashi joined in, happy that it was over.

"Abbott, Hannah!"

A little blond girl skipped up the steps and sat on the stool, and McGonagall put the tattered Hat on her head.

Vaguely, Kakashi wondered what would happen if 'Hannah' had lice. There would be an epidemic of first-years in the hospital, and possible spread of disease. Really, these wizards. They were showy and liked to waste energy on frivolous things, but they had absolutely no common sense. If they didn't shape up, they'd die off in a century or so.

If it weren't that the shinobi liked to keep to themselves, they could easily take over this whole world. He pictured it- this land was huge, a hundred times the size of the Five Elemental Nations. They could spread out, eliminating conflicts over land. After the original attack, it would be reasonably peaceful. He allowed himself to fantasize about ruling the wizards for a few moments more, before a familiar name snapped his mind back into the present moment.

"Potter, Harry!"

Potter stumbled up the steps with remarkable lack of grace and sat on the stool, wide eyed and nervous. The Hat slipped over his glasses and Potter visibly flinched. Kakashi had been told that the had had some kind of mind-reading jutsu that it used to figure out which House to place the students in. Hn.

After a few moments, in which Potter muttered something very fast under his breath, the Hat yelled, "GRYFFINDOR!"

So, it was Gryffindor, then, was it? Kakashi cursed under his breath. He looked terrible in red and yellow. If only that blue table, or maybe even the green table. Well, he didn't have to show House pride unless absolutely necessary to the mission.

Slowly but surely, all the first years skipped, tripped, stumbled, or ran to their respective tables, until Kakashi sat alone in the middle of the room. Conspicuous. Damn it, if they'd just sorted him with the first years, this would be a lot less awkward. But then, if they had done that, He would have been sorted before Potter, and they'd just have to guess and hope that they were in the same house. And that was _not_ how Kakashi ran his missions, if he had anything to say about it.

Dumbledore stood. "Attention, just a quick announcement before our final student is sorted. This is Kakashi Hatake. He is a transfer student from another magical school, the Konoha Academy of Magical Discipline in Japan. Because he passed his end-of term exams last year with the highest marks in his class, he was awarded with a year's study abroad. I invite you all to welcome him as you would an honored guest."

There were snickers. Nice, Dumbledore. Now every kid in the school thought he was some kind of genius pretty boy, and not in the complimentary sense of the phrase. He could tell that about half of them were just itching to prank this bratty new Japanese transfer , that wouldn't cause too many problems. People had tried to prank him, too, when he went to the chuunin headquarters at six, and the jounin headquarters at ten. They soon found that he had more than a nice title.

He advanced to the stage and sat delicately on the edge of the stool. It was just as ancient as the hat, and he got the feeling that it would collapse if he put too much pressure on it. Then the Hat slid over his eyes.

He made sure not to flinch, but it truly startled him when he found that the Hat not only blocked his vision, but his other senses as well. If there was an attack, he would be completely and utterly at his opponent's mercy. The only sensation left to him was touch, and in the ninja world, if you touched your opponent, it was already too late for one of you.

_Interesting. A very analytical mind._

'_Shut up, Hat. Just put me in Gryffindor.'_

_Don't be hasty. You don't belong there. You would do better in Ravenclaw or Slytherin with a mind like yours._

_'I'm not here to get good grades or to make friends! I'm here to complete my mission.'_

_If you keep talking to me in that tone, I'll put you in Hufflepuff,_ the Hat warned.

That was going too far. Kakashi opened some of his more gruesome memories for the Hat's perusal- nothing important, just a few of his assassinations and bloodier missions.

_'Put me in Gryffindor, Hat."_

_Fine, I'll put you there, even though it's not the best place for you. It's that table with the lion. Brat. _

_"_GRYFFINDOR!"

_'Wise choice,' _thought Kakashi absently as he took off the Hat and headed to the Gryffindor table amidst applause. Why they were so happy to have him, he didn't quite comprehend, but he slid onto the end of the bench anyway.

* * *

**Thanks to all of the wonderful reviews and suggestions.  
**

**~Crysanth**


	6. In Which: Kakashi Learns to Socialize

**Chapter 6! This chapter is dedicated to Madness Lover, Bokmal 14, and FurionKnight, the ONLY reviewers for chapter five.**

**Oh yeah. It's also dedicated to my kitty, Leo, who I love very much!**

**Leo-*miaou***

**Oh, that's right! The reason you are getting this chapter so ridiculously early (I mean, seriously, I released the last chapter just last night. LATE last night) is to celebrate the release of my new HPNaruto Xover, "Requiem for a Soul". If you have the time, please read and review. No worries; I will continue to update this story as regularly (or irregularly) as I have been doing so far. So, pretty pretty please, R&R if you have the time.**

**So. 'Requiem for a Soul' Try it!  
**

**

* * *

**The wizards applied the same rules to their feasts as Minato-_sensei_ did to ramen. That is, as much and as varied as possible in the shortest amount of time. With all this food and the amount of exercise the wizards tended towards- that is, barely any- it was a shock that they weren't all gigantic balls of lard with pointy hats.

"So, Kahkachi, was it?" There was a boy with hair like a firecracker sitting next to Potter, and he appeared to be addressing Kakashi. If addressing was what wizards called it when someone called your name through a mouthful of beef stew.

"Kahkachi it wasn't. Try 'Kakashi.'"

The boy looked perplexed. ""Dat's wha' I shaid, righ'?

"Honestly, Ronald." This was the girl, the one with bushy brown hair. The Sorting Hat had called her 'Hermione Granger'. "You're not pronouncing it correctly. You need to enunciate each syllable as a separate two- or three- letter sound, consisting of one consonant sound and on vowel. Ka-Ka-Shi. The Japanese have four alphabets, and each is formed of different symbols and used in different context..."

Kakashi tuned her out, and it was fairly obvious to him that Ron had stopped listening as well. The food perplexed him; there were all sorts of odd dishes, and most of them he had never seen before in his life. The utensils at his plate had been replaced with a pair of wooden chopsticks as opposed to the metal spoons and forks the other Gryffindors were eating with.

He was on the end of the table. The Granger girl with the bushy hair was next to him, chattering away, and beyond her was 'Ronald'. Across from where he sat, Harry Potter sat with another red-haired student, this one much older.

"Turnip pasty, Kakichi?"

"It's Kakashi. And no, I don't think I've ever seen anything so revolting in my life." It was true. Even Minato-_sensei_'s more interesting ramen concoctions had stopped short the complete _unedibility_ of purplish cakes with a pale green filling. And the _smell_ coming from those things- ugh. He swore to himself at that moment that he would never eat turnips again.

Hermione took pity on him and passed him a bowl of brown beef stew. It was odd, but reasonable enough, and he could eat with chopsticks if he was careful. "Itadakimasu."

"Yeah!" Ron agreed, apparently oblivious. "So, what's it like in China, Kakushi?"

"It's Japan. And it's Kakashi."

Hermione joined in, looking interested. "I hadn't heard of any magical academies in Japan. I thought that it was almost wizard-free."

Kakashi smiled. "Well, my school has an alternate name. _Konohagakure no Sato_. It literally means 'the village that is hidden amongst the tree leaves.' While it goes by 'Konoha Academy of Magical Discipline' it has always been known as the Hidden Academy." He pointed at his _hitai-ate_. "Hence the leaf symbol." There. It was a good lie, elaborate enough to throw them off track, and partially truthful.

"'Hwy's 'at ovrin' yeri?"

Kakashi, who correctly interpreted Ron's question as 'Why is that covering your eye?" smiled slightly under his mask, before saying in a serious tone, "I was hit by a stray curse in a hallway duel in my first year. I don't like to talk about it."

"But you're a first year like us, right? I mean, you can't be much older than twelve, so this should be your first year in magical education."

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head and smiled brightly._ Remember, Kakashi, you're the friendly transfer student. That means _no_ torturing people for stupid questions. _"Well, in Konoha, we typically begin our education at age seven, like muggles do. We find that a magical core can actually collapse in on itself if it isn't taken care of at a young age."

"Really? But how is it that it doesn't happen here at Hogwarts?"

Kakashi laughed. "It has. Sometime around age eight, your magical core collapsed and nearly extinguished completely. That's why you can only control your energy if you have a wand to amplify it for you. Occasionally when your magic collapses, it actually does go out. Hence a squib."

Hermione caught the hidden implication and gagged on her food. "_You can do wandless magic!_"

"_Ano_, to be specific, I can _only_ do wandless magic."

"Wha' happensh when 'ou ' use a wan'?"

* * *

_**Flashback**_

_"Kakashi, if you're going to use the planned f__açade and pretend to be a student, you will need to have a wand. It would look odd if a supposedly magical student didn't have the most basic of wizard tools." Dumbledore looked positively delighted at the prospect. "Hence, I have invited Mr. Ollivander here to try and find you a wand."_

_Ollivander, a stick-thin man with bulbous eyes and uncombed gray-white hair, inspected Kakashi closely. It was rather an uncomfortable situation. Kakashi had seen a lot of ugly people in his life, but none of them were quite so disgusting or quite so old. The man put him in mind of a grasshopper summon, one of the big ones._

_"Is there a particular wand that you need that's lost or something? I haven't got time to go finding things for you."_

_Ollivander spoke for the first time. "Ah, Mr. Hatake. A shinobi. I have never had to find a wand for a shinobi before, but I can see in your face that it will be a difficult task indeed."_

_"Why?"_

_"Well, Mr. Hatake, a wand tends to choose the wizard- or, in this case, the shinobi- that it feels it is most compatible with. In other words, a wand will not work if it feels that you are unworthy of it or if you try to take it by force."_

_"That is completely ridiculous. A tool is a tool. Any good tool knows that its place isn't to decide, but to be used as the owner feels necessary. My kunai wouldn't argue with me if I decided to kill you now, or if I decided to cut some bread. My sword does what it is meant to do. My chakra obeys. Why should a piece of wood be any different?"_

_"And that is precisely the mindset that is making this task so much harder than it needs to be. No wand will take to you that way."_

_"Hn."_

_**Several Hours Later...**_

_"Damnit! Why do they keep exploding?"_

_"I'm almost full out! What are you doing to them, my boy? I've never had damage to the wand itself, only damage to the surrounding areas. They're supposed to be resilient. It's as though the aren't simply rejecting you, they're just exploding because..."_

_Because...?_

_But that was the problem, wasn't it? Things didn't explode for no reason; it had to be a combustible material ignited by some force, or a difference in pressure, or a sudden outpouring of chakra._

_Pressure. That was it. Kakashi wished his Sharingan was like the Byakugan- able to see chakra pathways and energy pools. It would be so convenient at times like these._

_"It's the pressure. Your magic sort of trickles out through your fingers, I think, and then it's absorbed into the wand and amplified. But I'm used to forcibly mixing celestial energy and physical energy and shoving it out through my hands in an extremely pressurized state."_

_As an example, he formed the half-ram seal with his left hand and held chakra in it as it glowed a light blue-white. "The condensed chakra is so powerful that it fills the wand entirely. When the wand does what it's supposed to and tries to amplify the chakra, the chakra builds up pressure until the fragile wand can't take the extreme pressure. At the point where magic, which is more fluid, would be released from the tip, chakra is rolled into a steadily expanding mass of volatile energy."_

_Ollivander stared. "You know... I think that may be it!"_

_"Of course that's it. They don't call me a genius for nothing."_

_"However, as that is the case, it would seem that you are unable of performing spells with a wand. I cannot help you further."

* * *

_

"So? What happens when you use a wand, Kakashi?"

He pulled his mind out of memories and smiled. Damn. It looked like he was going to have to do a lot of smiling as the 'friendly foreign kid'. "When I use a wand, the energy builds up inside the wand until it has spontaneously combusted and is disintegrated into microscopic ash particles."

"That's impossible." Ron had swallowed and was looking rather pale.

"No, really! Do you want me to demonstrate with your wand?"

"No! I-I mean, no, I'm fine thanks, mate."

"Are you sure?" Kakashi's fingers twitched ominously, and Ron gripped his wand where it was hidden in his robes.

"P-positive."

Hermione, however, wasn't put off by Kakashi's posturing. "So, how does this wandless magic thing work?"

Might as well tell the truth. Or at least, the abridged version of the truth.

He shrugged, hoping to give off a carefree air, but got the feeling that he had failed. Miserably. "Well, before completing any wandless magic you have to have your celestial energy balanced with your physical energy. Most wizards are born with a set amount of celestial energy, but in Konoha, we train our bodies to become strong in physical energies as well."

"So you're all really fit, right?"

"That's the general idea, yes. It's also part of the reason why people here-," he looked around at the gorging students with a look of mild disgust on the visible portion of his face, "-will likely never be capable of wandless magic at all. They rely entirely on their magical core and the wand necessary to harness that magic. In duels at home, such a distinct reliance would get you killed."

Hermione looked at him in shock, and he realized that he'd said too much. It was easy to talk to her- she was on the same level as him when it came to intelligence- and he hadn't been thinking about what he was saying. "I don't mean _killed_. Like, as in, dead," he said, lying through his teeth. "I just mean, you know; what's the word? Defeated." In other words, dead.

"Oh." Hermione's voice was faint, but she perked back up almost instantly. "So people were into dueling at your school? How did the duels work?"

And so Kakashi launched into a cheery (and extremely abridged) explanation of 'dueling' at his 'academy'. In an effort to avoid any more, _awkward_ questions, he followed up with several anecdotes (most of which were completely made up), and one rather interesting 'duel' (which was mostly true, much to his embarrassment) involving Genma, Kurenai, ramen, senbons, spandex, twenty seven _hitai-ates_ belonging to high-ranking jounin across Konoha, and a platter of fish.

He was just beginning to tell her about Gai, a 'classmate' who liked to challenge Kakashi to meaningless duels, and sickly Gekkō Hayate, when there was a startled cry from Ron and Potter. A translucent ghost in a ridiculous outfit appeared to be demonstrating something. He supposed that the _gakis_ must have been frightened. The ghost had torn his head so that it was attached by the barest strip of flesh.

With the air of one who is embarrassed and trying not to show it, he flipped his head back so that it was upright again. Interesting.

The ghost coughed slightly, and then, no doubt in an attempt to change the subject, said, "Well, so we have an interesting crop of new Gryffindors this year, don't we?" He was looking at Kakashi out of the corner of his eye as he said this, and it was clear that it was he who was being referenced. Oh. A diversion technique.

Damn ghosts. Ron immediately perked up. "Hey, Harry! Meet Kakashi! He's been training in magic since he was _seven_ and he can do magic without a wand!"

Harry looked slightly confused. "Is that... normal?"

"Bloody hell, Harry, it's brilliant! I don't even know if _Dumbledore_ can do wandless magic, and he's the greatest wizard ever! Part of the reason Merlin was so famous was that he was really, really good at wandless magic! Kakashi's like, a genius!"

Harry looked at Kakashi, respect radiating from him. Hn. At least one of the _gakis_ knew where he stood. "Wow. It's, uh, nice to meet you, Kakashi."

Kakashi stuck his hand out awkwardly. "Pleasure."

Rather suddenly, all of the food disappeared. Ron, who was in the middle of eating a large slice of pork, objected loudly. It was all rather odd. Perhaps the Headmaster had come to his senses and decided that they all needed a diet and and exercise regime?

Apparently not. The rich, filling food was replaced by even more rich, filling food, and in even more copious amounts than before. There seemed to be an unlimited amount of deserts covering every dish.

Kakashi vaguely wondered where all of the uneaten food went. It couldn't just go to waste, but he couldn't picture wizards eating leftovers, either. Not to mention that there were enough leftovers from the feast to last a month. It was a mystery. Wasting it would be foolish, but so would keeping it, and selling it would be an impossibility in this world of finicky individuals. An anomaly.

He politely declined whatever ridiculous dessert Hermione was offering him, and answered Harry's questions vaguely, while Ron just sat and stared at him in awe. It was an irritating arrangement, but it helped him to keep his mind fairly on the present moment.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus, the self-proclaimed Irish Boy. "Me dad's a muggle. Me mum's a witch. She didn't tell him until they were married though. That was a surprise." There was laughter all around the table, and Kakashi's interest piqued. They were talking about bloodlines, then. He wondered if there were any _keikei genkais_ in the wizarding world. Probably not, but there was always the possibility...

The chubby boy, Neville told an interesting story in which his family tried aggressively forcing him to use magic. The Hyuuga had done that for a while, putting young children in life-or-death situations to see if they could uncover their Byakugan. It worked- for some. For the others, there was an untimely and very gruesome death.

Fortunately, it seemed that this Neville was a success story, and that his magic had been revealed after all.

Ron seemed to be from a very large but relatively unconnected clan of wizards, whose only revealed _keikei genkai_ was the ability to stun an opponent with that bright red hair. Five brothers and a sister. Ron had said it glumly, but it was clear he valued family highly.

Harry was not questioned, and Kakashi, who had heard the story of Harry's parents' demise from Dumbledore, had a good idea of why.

"So, what's your family like, Kakashi?"

Kakashi turned slowly and looked straight into Ron's eyes, his throat tightening painfully and eyes stinging slightly. _You're a shinobi, damnit! You DON'T HAVE emotions! _ He should have known this question was coming, he should have known and prepared for it. Visions of his mother, his baby sister, his father curled on the floor, blood staining the wood in a dark pool.

The red-haired boy appeared to regret the question immediately, sensing a taboo subject, but Kakashi answered in a flat voice. There was no time to come up with a realistic background story. "My- my parents and sister are dead."

Hermione caught the word and turned sharply. "Oh, no! Kakashi, I'm so sorry!"

He smiled his trademark 'foreign kid' smile, and the tension relaxed by a few degrees. "It's fine. I live with my teacher, Minato Namikaze, and his wife. He's been sort of like a second father to me, and I get by."

Ron still looked mortified, but Hermione ventured to ask in a timid voice, "How- if you don't mind me asking- how did it happen?"

Pain. It was like a red-hot stake applied to his stomach, and bile rose to his throat. He flinched slightly, and hoped his mask hid it well enough. _My mother died in childbirth when I was four. My little sister died of a disease when she was ten days old. My father was disgraced by the village and committed suicide when I was eight._

Instead of recounting the gruesome events, he smiled a forced smile and said, fixedly, "There was a car crash."

* * *

Harry knew, instinctively, that Kakashi was lying. How many times had Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon responded to his questions with that very same answer: "_There was a car crash. Your parent died in a car crash, you stupid boy! No, there isn't anything more to it! They died in a car crash, driving drunk, no doubt."_ Car crash. Even just the words made Harry suspect that Kakashi was lying.

But why? Perhaps the answer was complicated, and painful to recount. In any case, he thought that the only part that was true was the part about his teacher. There was a glow in his eyes as he talked about this 'Minato Namikaze'. It was lucky, Harry thought, that there was someone who could be there for him. It looked like he needed it.

Harry's first impression of the white-haired boy was that he was hiding something. For one thing, his eyes flickered in recognition at Harry's name, but he didn't react like everyone else, with the now-familiar upwards eye-flick towards his scar. Instead, Kakashi had studied him thoroughly, like he was memorizing his face, and hadn't looked at him since.

He didn't seem quite straightforward. For all of Ron's praise and excited questions, Kakashi still seemed distant to the first years, older than them somehow. He was almost... in pain.

Perhaps it was that he was away from his Academy. After all, if he was so close to his teacher, it would be a bitter separation, to leave for a foreign school for six months. And it would hurt, to have to come out and say that his entire family was dead.

Harry just wished that he knew what really happened.

* * *

The conversation was just picking back up, minus Kakashi, when Dumbledore stood from his seat in the middle of the large table at the front and spread out his hands in a welcoming gesture. The deserts disappeared like the food had, and again Kakashi wondered what on earth they planned to do with thirteen hundred leftover cupcakes.

The client began to speak, and for the most part, the students fell silent.

"Ahem. Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered, thank you. To begin with, First-Year students," his twinkling blue eyes flashed to Kakashi for a moment, "should know that the Forbidden Forest is completely forbidden to _all_ pupils. Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to remind you that magic in the corridors is also against the rules."

Damn. So Dumbledore had found out about his little escapade in the Forest, had he? Interesting.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Several students laughed, including Harry Potter, his charge. Well. He hoped that Potter didn't take such a carefree attitude when it came to _real_ danger, or he would have a difficult time keeping him alive. And certainly, keeping the students away from that corridor would be nearly impossible now that Dumbledore had announced it as out-of-bounds.

"And now! Before bed, let us all sing the school song." Dumbledore flicked his wand, and illusionary ribbons flew out the end, forming into words- were they lyrics?

"Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

It was cacophony. Ron was singing it to the tune of a children's song, and Hermione was singing Mozart. Harry seemed slightly unsure of what was expected of him, and sang a tune that he probably made up on the spot. Kakashi hummed a quiet little lullaby that Rin was always singing to herself. It was short and sweet and fairly repetitive.

When, finally, everyone was finished except for two redheaded Weasleys singing an uncannily good rendition of a funeral dirge, Dumbledore dismissed the lot of them. It wasn't organized, as it might have been in Konoha. Rather, there were a lot of confused students going any which way, and one or two desperate older students attempting to regain order. Hn.

The Gryffindor first years followed yet another redheaded Weasley through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble _gakis_ seemed exhausted and sleepy from overeating.

Kakashi shot death glares at many of the portraits who whispered and pointed as they passed, some pointing at the Potter _gaki_ and some pointing at him.

It did seem that the students were used to the hidden passages, since twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. All of these passageways seemed fairly innocuous; there weren't many traps or violent animals that Kakashi would have to look out for. They seemed to be merely shortcuts.

The _gakis_ climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging their feet, and Kakashi was wondering how many of them would collapse before they got there, when the authoritative Percy Weasley pulled up short. There was a bundle of small, carved, walking sticks.

They were hanging in midair.

Percy began speaking to Peeves (Kakashi had been unlucky enough to come into contact with the poltegeist several times before, and they weren't on good terms).

The poltergeist popped into view and stuck out his tongue at the prefect. "Oooh, Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He swooped down suddenly and the first years, with the exception of Kakashi, scattered.

Peeves, apparently seeing Kakashi for the first time, laughed wickedly. "Oh, there you are! You're the nasty little boy with that awful mask! Is the nasty boy pretending to be a student?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," said Kakashi, a heavy sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh! Does the nasty boy not have his nasty knives?" Peeves surveyed him from where he was perched upside-down in the air. "No nasty knives no more?"

Kakashi narrowed his visible eye and let out as much of his killing intent as was possible without scaring the _gakis_. "Get lost, Peeves."

To the astonishment of all, Peeves scurried away, pausing only to drop the sticks on Neville's head.

* * *

"What was that?"

"That was bloody awesome!"

"I've never seen Peeves take orders from a student before!"

"Amazing, mate!"

Kakashi was besieged in the Common Room, and it was all he could do to shy away from questions and get upstairs. "I need to unpack! Look, I don't know why he listened, he just did. I'm tired!"

To the disappointment of many, he trudged up the stairs and lay down in his four-poster bed.

The room was slightly moonlit from the open window. It all looked very spooky and dramatic. No doubt Obito would have been in awe.

Obito. His bag of ninja tools was carefully hidden, but on a whim, Kakashi pulled it out of its hiding place and opened it. Obito's goggles, still dirty from the event in the Forbidden Forest, glowed in the half-light. He held them for a moment, then put them and Rin's silver locket on his bedside table. Two mementos of two friends.

As an afterthought, he untied his _hitai-ate_. A memento of Minato-_sensei _as well, to complete the little shrine of home.

Exhausted from nearly a week with little to no rest, Kakashi collapsed and fell asleep almost instantaneously.

* * *

**Like? Hate? Come on, review levels are decreasing dramatically. If you can favorite it and alert it, surely you could take the time to write one measly review! **

**So, review and I will be very happy. That goes for 'Requiem for a Soul' as well.**

**Leo: *chewing on my foot* Miaow!  
**

**~Crysanth  
**


	7. In Which: Evil Turbans Conquer the World

**My art teacher is completely insane, and not in a good way. He has... issues. He'll go into the storeroom, start laughing maniacally, yell something about painful sneakers (no joke) and start dragging out ten full-body mirrors, only to tell us to put them away again. Or call this one girl's name from across the room in a weird voice. "Sabrina...Sabrina...!" Creepy much? Personally, I think he's a little off up there somewhere. **

**In any case, he assigned us a two page essay due tomorrow on Impressionism, and probably won't even remember he assigned it. But I have to write the thing anyway in case he _does_ remember and decides to make it a 200-point grade.**

**This being the reason why I haven't responded to all of those lovely reviews. Don't blame me; blame my crazy art teacher.**

**Enjoy!  
**

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No."

"Sugar on top?"

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"You're heartless."

"To some extent, yes. However, while I can understand your wish to see Kakashi, it is currently impossible without risking his life and the success of the mission." Okay, so the Sandaime was exaggerating a bit, but it was necessary. Unless he told Rin that it would endanger Kakashi, she wouldn't ever give up.

"But- but-" Rin's eyes filled with tears and she sniffled a little. "I m-miss him! I haven't seen him for anything longer than a week straight since _then_, and I want to see him!"

"I- um- well- no!"

"Please?" He eyes got a bit rounder and her lower lip wobbled dangerously.

"N-n-n- oh, fine. You can write to him when he sends Hae back with the mission report. But keep it coded, and for heaven's sakes, Rin, _don't_ say anything important or classified!"

She was all smiles again, squealing with happiness and giving the Sandaime a peck on the cheek for good measure. "_Arigatou_, Hokage_-sama_! You're the best! Tell me when you get the report!"

And then she disappeared, leaving a nonplussed Hokage wondering when he had gotten so old that he became susceptible to the puppy-dog faces of little girls. Heaven forbid that the enemies of Konoha find out, or the village would be beseiged by armies of cute five-year-olds with teddy bears and lollipops and big eyes.

He shivered at the thought and turned away.

* * *

Kakashi stared. Just a moment ago, Professor McGonagall's old-fashioned mahogany desk had been situated nicely by the window. The morning light shone down through dust motes and reflected slightly off of the lacquered wood. Tall, imposing, intimidating, grand; all words that could fit McGonagall herself just as well as her furniture. It was a stately piece, with one large drawer and two smaller drawers facing the chair, so as to make it a quick and easy task to access materials. It was well-crafted.

Or at least, it used to be. Now it was a pig.

A gigantic pot-bellied pig snuffled meaningfully around the floor. It was a splotchy sort of pink and very fat. Two small, beady eyes peered out from behind that wrinkly snout, and it's tail was pert and curly. It eyed the students warily, but apparently turned away when it decided that they could hardly be less threatening if they were transformed into a pack of flobberworms. Kakashi agreed silently.

Kakashi had entered the classroom about five minutes late. McGonagall had waved her stick in a fancy gesture that implied great effort and precision, and spoken a few garbled words. Promptly, there had been a huge outburst of power. Kakashi would have gaped if it hadn't been breaking his ever-present composure. The centuries-old desk shivered and wriggled and _morphed_ into the form of the peeved barnyard animal that now stood before the class.

"Take your seat, Mr. Hatake," McGonagall ordered, looking down her long nose at him, as though he was a scruffy sort of cur dog that had knocked over her trash can. "Five points from Gryffindor for your tardiness."

Kakashi, still slightly shell shocked at the desk-turned-pig, offered no resistance. McGonagall gave him a triumphant smile, as if to say, 'There now, that wasn't so hard, was it?'

He kept one eye on the pig- it looked like it was about to charge, and he didn't want to have to protect Potter in a crowded classroom- and edged into his seat. Out of three open seats, he chose this one because it was closest to Harry and Ron, and had easy access to three of the exits. Window, door, and a hidden entrance behind a tapestry were all suitable escape routes should the situation become dangerous.

By the time Kakashi turned back to the front, the pig was gone, and the desk was back in its place. He might've imagined it, but he thought the majority of the class looked very relieved when the desk was once more immobile.

McGonagall, who now held the attention of the entire class, held up a single slender gray object. A match?

"Your objective this lesson is to transfigure- to transform- a match into a needle. Miss Patil, would you hand around the matchbooks? One to every pair of students. Yes, that's right, dear. And Mr. Thomas, the pincushions, if you will?" The students handed out their respective items, and Kakashi found that he had been paired with the bushy-haired Hermione. Ah, well. Could be worse.

"Now, I want all of you to practice the wand movements with your partner. _Just _the wand movements, mind you! I don't want any skewed incantations!"

The class mumbled an assent, and Kakashi turned to find Hermione looking at him oddly. "I thought you couldn't do wand magic?"

"I can't. Why?"

"Well, how is it you're going to do the wand movements if you don't have a wand? Can you just say the incantation and have the magic work, or do you have to-" she broke off, deep in thought. "Is there another method you use?"

Kakashi smiled his 'friendly kid' smile from beneath his mask. "We'll see. You can work on your wand movement, and I'll worry about me."

And so, the lesson progressed thus; with Hermione practicing the twirl of the wand strenuously, and pausing to check the book every few seconds, all the while watching Kakashi out of the corner of his eye.

Kakashi, for his part, was staring out the window and murmuring, "Horse, tiger- no, Monkey, then Ox...", as his hands twitched slightly under the desk. To the rest of the class, it would appear that he was doing nothing at all. If they knew him at all, the _gakis_ would know better then to think that he sat idle.

After almost ten minutes of this, he yawned, and lay back in his chair. This 'transfiguration' was tricky. It was impossible, of course, to change the true nature of an object; the best any human could do would be to change its form, cast an illusion to make it appear as though the form had changed, or to make the object itself think that it was another object.

This last seemed to be what McGonagall did. Certainly the pig wasn't an illusion. Kakashi hadn't been fooled by an illusion in a long time, and it was unlikely that McGonagall had developed a Grade 10 genjutsu for making people think that desks were pigs. It didn't seem as though she had merely changed the form, either; the desk and the pig were different types of object. Not to mention that the desk was rather more inanimate than a pig might tend to be.

So she had somehow fooled the molecules of the desk into thinking that they were really the molecules of a pig, and to be aligned as such. But that would require a genjutsu over an inanimate object, which was completely ridiculous. Genjutsu involved distorting the chakra around the perception regions of the brain, and if an object had no chakra flow, this was impossible.

"Um- Kakashi? She's coming around now to check our wand movements, I think you should at least practice them-"

Kakashi looked up, and McGonagall was making towards their desk with the slightest hint of a smug smile on her stern face. "Well, Mr. Hatake, I should hope you've managed to practice your wand movements thoroughly. Would you like to demonstrate for the class?"

He shrugged. McGonagall decided to take that as a 'yes'. "Very well, then, let's see it."

Hermione looked a little put-out, and Kakashi picked up the match. Concentrating his chakra in the air around him and forming the hand seals with his left hand under the table, he manipulated the large-scale genjutsu he had placed earlier. '_You don't see a match; you see a needle. A needle."_

He felt the release of chakra, but thankfully the object of the genjutsu was small and very similar to a needle already. It didn't take much effort to convince them that they were seeing a silver point instead of the head of the match.

Hermione gasped. "How on earth did you do that? You didn't use an incantation or a wand or anything!"

Kakashi was sorely tempted to smile and say, "I didn't do it; you just think I did," but breaking his background the first day was a rather stupid thing to do, so he shrugged. McGonagall looked as though she had swallowed and Acid Pop but was too stubborn to choke it back up, and instead was letting it eat through her stomach slowly.

He looked out the window again. That look wasn't anything new.

* * *

Lunch. To his relief, it was nowhere near as decadent as the feast the day before. There was meat of some kind, and a salad, and an odd pasta dish, but while there was still a large variety, there wasn't such an excessive amount. He didn't eat much, but with a little effort, he mastered the 'fork' and tried some lumpy pudding warily.

Kakashi was actually in a fairly good mood. No nosy questions, and his shadow clone reported that all was fine with the Stone. Potter seemed to be in little to no danger from Dark wizards. Even the classes were interesting enough, despite his inhibitions. If everything went on like this, he'd get out of practice from lack of action. Pity.

He was about to have a go at that bizarre noodle dish when a gasp arose from most of the Gryffindor table. Irritated, he looked up along with the rest- only to see a silver streak diving towards him.

With a muttered curse, he reached into his bag and jammed a dragonhide glove on his hand, thanking all the gods he could think of that it went all the way up to his elbow. He stood just in time to expertly maneuver himself into a good position for a landing messenger hawk.

Hae alighted on his arm, a slightly apologetic look in her cold yellow eyes. The poor hawk had likely circled overhead for ten or so minutes, looking for a designated perch like one she would normally land on, but found none. Frustrated, she had performed a flawless evasion dive and nearly planted herself headfirst in the noodle dish Kakashi was considering.

In a situation where she was being fired upon by crossbow and/or jutsu, this dive would enable her to carry a letter directly to the recipient, although it usually killed or crippled the hawk performing it.

Kakashi sighed and stroked her head. "Next time, try the Owlery, and I'll pick up the letters there, okay? There's no need to put yourself in danger here, and there are perches for the post owls up there."

If Hae had been human, she probably would have wrinkled her nose in disgust, but instead she settled for a disgruntled glare. Post owls were to messenger hawks as underage civilians were to ANBU; useless.

He slid the scroll out of her pouch. The code was green, meaning that there was a basic encryption for level B+ missions and a complex encryption as for A+ missions on the message. An orange code was under that, meaning that there was also the keyword encryption as for S+ missions. This could only be decrypted if you had the correct codeword. The codeword was given directly to the mission leader by the Hokage and shared with no one else, ever.

He gave Hae a nudge and she took off, streamlined and silver, beautiful against the enchanted ceiling. Kakashi pocketed the letter; it would take a minute or two to decode and, needless to say, now was not the time.

He turned back to his food, only to find most of Gryffindor table staring at him wide eyed. Whispers broke out and stares were rampant.

"He was so fast!"

"What was that bird?"

"Did you see him? One minute he was eating, and the next- BAM!"

"I wonder what that message was."

All around him, the students were in awe. Damn. That made everything so much harder. He turned again to the legendary Hatake tactic.

Of ignoring.

He sat back down next to an open mouthed Hermione Granger, and took a big bite of that noodle dish. It turned out to be quite revolting, but he chewed it slowly. Anything to occupy his mouth would do for a good excuse.

Unfortunately, Hermione was determined. "How on earth did you do that, Kakashi?"

He swallowed. "Ugh. This stuff is gross. Do you have any soy sauce?"

"That was a hawk, right? I've never seen one as fast as that before, or as big. Don't you use owls in Japan?"

"I don't know how you can stomach it," Kakashi commented, trying to drown the taste with a large glass of water. "Disgusting stuff."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Clearly. Could you pass me some salad?" He set down his water glass and smiled brightly. It probably would have had blinding qualities if it weren't for the mask.

"Why do you wear that mask? How can you do wandless magic? Why are you at Hogwarts? Why won't you answer my questions? What is that headband for? Why are you so fast?" She paused to take a breath, and Kakashi cut her off.

"None of your business, tell you later, exchange program, nosy, uniform, and not important," he replied clearly.

"Wait, what? I- I am not nosy! And why can't you tell me now?" She struggled for a moment, trying to fit the answers with the question in her head. "And you can't just be here for the exchange program, you're too talented to need extra schooling."

"You _are_ nosy. I don't feel like telling you now because I'm hungry, and as for the exchange program, think what you want. My guardian wanted me to gain a worldwide education, which includes the theory of wandwork. Hence, Hogwarts. I might take a semester at Durmstrang next year; I hear they have an excellent potions course."

Hermione looked taken aback. "I recommend the beef burgundy, if you're hungry. But I will find out!"

Kakashi rolled his eyes and tried a tentative spoonful of the referred to meal. It was suitable enough. "You don't have to go on a little espionage mission. I said I'd tell you."

"So tell me now!"

"You won't understand it."

"Try me!" She looked desperate. "I'm smart- I can pick it up if I try!"

"Oh? Well then, I harness my magic through intensive physical exercise and focus it in a part of my body, usually in the palms of my hands or my feet. After that, I shape it using seals, pressurize it, condense it, and shove it out of my skin. This all requires years of training, and, as I mentioned before, is impossible for witches and wizards."

She looked at him oddly, and he realized his slip too late. Hurriedly, he tried to patch up his error. "I mean, for witches and wizards in England. Japanese wizards go by the name of shinobi, so I'm not used to referring to myself by that name."

"Oh..."

Damn.

* * *

All was not going well. Hermione seemed determined to keep an eye on him, as though this mysterious exchange student might disappear while she was away, and all of that information would be out of her grasp forever.

She was walking him to Defense Against the Dark Arts, despite his strenuous protests, when a sudden rush of chakra rebound informed him that someone was trying to break into the forbidden corridor. The corridor where the Stone was.

He maneuvered carefully out of Hermione's grasp, and darted off. Progress was slow, so, running to the nearest bathroom and performing a camouflage jutsu, Kakashi leaped to the ceiling and ran from there.

In a matter of seconds, he was at the door, staring down bemusedly at Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Apparently, they had gotten lost again. Perhaps they should have posted a sign; 'Forbidden Third-floor Corridor.' Potter and Weasley certainly would have profited from it. An angry Filch was making his way towards the two, an evil scowl on his lined face.

Well, that matter was easily dealt with. Kakashi sighed, and posted another clone. He chose a shadow clone this time; while it took up more chakra than a dust bunshin, kage bunshin had minds of their own, and could use better judgement than a mindless dust clone would. Filch could take care of the lost students, and Kakashi would worry about the real threats.

So the real Kakashi jumped down, landing soundlessly behind Harry in the corridor. "Hey."

Harry seemed to be in a bad mood from Filch's threats. "I'm not signing any autographs, okay- oh, hey, Kakashi."

"Got chewed out by Filch, huh? I always wonder why they don't provide maps for students. I just spent an hour and a half with Hermione, and apparently, 'Hogwarts, a History' lists over a thousand rooms in the castle. And that's not even with all of the secret compartments." Ugh. Being friendly was even more exhausting than fighting at times.

Harry, however, laughed. "Yeah."

"Poor you. An hour and a half with Hermione'd be enough to kill anyone," Ron said solemnly. "What's it like? 'Did you know that merpeople are now considered an endangered race? At the Warlock Convention of 1906, they protested, and'-"

"Actually, I did hear that one. It was the convention of 1926, though."

Harry laughed, and Ron doubled over with cackles. "Nice!"

"But, hey, I know a shortcut to Defense Against the Dark Arts. You can still get there on time if you hurry." He smiled under the mask and rubbed the back of his head. "I didn't have much to do for the week before you lot got here, so I did a lot of exploring."

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!"

* * *

As it happened, they got into class just barely on time. Hermione sent Kakashi a barely hidden glare. He supposed he must have hurt her feelings by walking out on her like that, but what was he supposed to do? The bunshin told him someone was trying to break in, and he couldn't let the alarm go unanswered.

But for some reason, rationalizing the situation didn't help much when he looked at her angry, hurt eyes.

The teacher, Quirenus Quirrell, was quite the anomaly. He hadn't been at the first meeting of the teachers, and he had successfully avoided Kakashi ever since. An interesting feat. As a result, Kakashi had little to no intel on the man aside from knowing that he was a notorious recluse and had taken a job that was supposedly cursed.

So when Kakashi walked in and saw that Quirrell was a nervous man in a turban, he shot to the top of Kakashi's investigation list. He knew from experience; turbans were never a good sign. He had fought a Mist-nin with a turban once. Kakashi had him right where he wanted him, kunai to the temple, when the damned thing came alive and tried to strangle him.

Yes. It's true. Kakashi has a phobia of turbans.

Everything about Quirrell got on his nerves; the turban, the stutter, the overpowering scent of garlic. The smell was so strong it stung his eyes and made them water like mad. There was a quavery quality to the man's voice that set Kakashi's teeth on edge, and the discombobulated state of the classroom made his head hurt.

But try as he might to find some real, honest-to-goodness evidence that this guy was evil, he couldn't find any. He wanted to trust his instincts and report him, but experience told him that instincts were often wrong. Evidence was the only thing that could be depended on without reserve, and thus far, all the evidence said that Quirrell was a mentally disturbed young teacher.

The shinobi in Kakashi said otherwise.

* * *

Kakashi sat in the common room, unfurling the scroll. It wasn't written in kanji- rather, the code made it look like an Inuzuka's familiar had run across the page. It wasn't going to be easy to decode; whoever wrote this had awful handwriting.

He sighed, and placed two heavy, smooth stones at the top and the bottom of the scroll, holding it flat so that he could read it. He did the same with a blank scroll that he produced from his bag, and set up an inkwell at the top of the table. He then pulled out a cloth pouch, untied the twine around it, and unrolled it on his lap. Half of the cloth had compartments for brushes of varied size; the other half held small glass vials filled with dark mineral powder of some kind.

He chose a long, slender brush, the kind with a full, rounded tip that narrowed towards the end. It was stiff; horsehair of some kind, and he hadn't used it before. He always liked to procure brushes from master craftsmen, and there happened to be a very skilled brush designer not far from where he lived in Konoha.

He then selected a vial of powder. It was a dark, soft shade of black, and it would last for a long time. He uncapped it and poured a small amount into the inkwell, before returning it to the cloth pouch and rolling it back up. He tied it tightly and stuffed it back in his bag. A small glass of water he had gotten earlier sat on the table as well, and he poured it into the inkwell.

After stirring it with the end of his brush for a few minutes, it gained an inky consistency. Ink for quills was much more fluid than ink for brushes, and it would splatter everywhere if he tried. Kakashi liked making his own ink. He had gotten a feel for it a while ago, and writing with store-bought ink was uncomfortable and messy.

He dipped the tip of the brush into the ink and began to decode the message in swift, neat kanji.

As per usual, he didn't comprehend the message he was decoding until after he had finished, and read over the finished product. Because of the messy quality of the script, this took a while, but when he did, he jumped slightly.

_Hey, 'Kashi-kun!_

_It's me, Rin! I miss you a lot, and so does sensei. I think Minoru does too, but I can't get him to admit it. If Gai knew I was writing he'd probably tell me to tell you that he awaits your return with bated breath, but really, he's just run out of people to annoy. Hayate's sick again, no surprise, and so he can't go to get your quarter report in October. I wanted to go, but I can't since I'm still just a chuunin. I had to pester Sandaime to let me even just write this to you. Genma made jounin recently, so he might be going, but I don't think so._

_Minoru technically passed the exam, too, but the examiners found some excuse to keep him a chuunin. Three guesses what the real reason is? 'Cause he's a brat, that's why. Let's see, anything else worth mentioning? Oh! The word is, the Sandaime will be retiring soon, and sensei's the top pick for Yondaime! He says that he doesn't want to, and I don't blame him. Kushina-san would totally freak!_

_Another thing; you probably won't believe it, but Asuma is dating _Anko_! I know, right? It's like, does he have a death wish or something? I'm not sure whether he does it because he enjoys risking his life, or because he wants to look cool, but either way, this is going to have a painful ending. Plus, who in their right mind breaks up with Kurenai to go out with Anko? Anko's great, but she's not exactly gentle, is she?_

_Kurenai's dating Hayate, but I think that was just to get over the breakup. Asuma will be back with her before the week is out. He needs someone like Kurenai, who will acknowledge his manliness and make him feel good about himself. I'm going to stay out of everyone's way for a while, since I don't want to die anytime soon. Genma says he wants to watch, but I think he's insane. It's like waiting under a volcano for the inevitable eruption, and trying to shield yourself with an umbrella. Pointless, and painful._

_I hope you're all right, wherever you are! Please stay safe!_

_XOX, Rin_

Kakashi felt his face break into a real smile for the first time since he arrived at Hogwarts. It was good to hear Rin prattle on about unimportant happenings. It took his mind off of the big picture. That was how things were in Team Minato. Obito had said it once: _"Kakashi focuses on the mission, Rin focuses on the team, and I focus on the unimportant stuff, and Sensei does everything else."_

All at once, he missed Obito, he missed Rin, and he missed Sensei. And he didn't care one bit about the mission.

It was a new sensation.

* * *

**The letters were a special request from my 50th reviewer, QuantumMelody. I hope she's satisfied with them!**

**I'm offering the same reward to my 100th reviewer, whoever that may be- a suggestion or a scene for the story. So, review, my friends! Please! And don't blame me for the late update!**

**~Crysanth  
**


	8. In Which: Kakashi Makes an Enemy

**This is officially my longest fic ever! You guys were so nice in your reviews about Ch. 7... and it was mostly filler... You're so nice, all of you! *Cries into hankie***

**Uh, now that's over with, here's Chapter 8!**

**

* * *

**Kakashi slumped in his bed, leaning against the ridiculously soft pillows. He had made it through two... full... days. Two days, and he was reduced to this state. It was really rather embarrassing. He had thought he had more stamina than that, thought that the great Copy-nin Kakashi could make it through. He was wrong.

Being friendly really took it out of you. Maybe that was why most of the best shinobi were jerks.

He was exhausted. Looking after Harry Potter deserved to be more than an S-ranked. That boy managed to find about fifty ways to get into trouble in five minutes. It was like looking after a bratty Academy student, only the kid wasn't even trying to be a pain. It was torment to think what he would get to once he actually _tried_ to get into mischief.

The kid was a natural. He was polite to the teachers, and did his homework strenuously. He was meek, reasonably good-looking, and of average size. He was clever, and from what Kakashi could see, talented. Harry was popular, slightly shy, friendly to almost everyone, fast, nimble, bright, had a good sense of humor. Heck, even animals liked him!

Which bid the question; how the hell did he manage to get into so much trouble?

He got chewed out by Filch at least five times, was tricked by Peeves, got lost, had somehow become the bitter enemy of Draco 'Squeaky' Malfoy, was eyed by most of the teachers as a troublemaker, was late to classes, missed lunch, and didn't have a single person write to him at breakfast. Did he live at an orphanage or something? His guardians seemed not to remember that they had a charge. Kakashi could see the lonely look in his eyes sometimes, when Ron's owl dive-bombed the potato chips at breakfast, or when Malfoy got packages from his unreasonably adoring mother and father.

Kakashi knew what it was like, but then, he had Rin's letters to look forward to, so it couldn't be quite the same for him. But still, the pain that everyone around him had two parents, and, more often than not, siblings, who loved them and cared about them... it hurt, knowing that he didn't, could never have that.

He had become so obsessed, that, at a subconsious level, he thought that his father had just left for a short while. That maybe, if he did well enough in training, if he succeeded in enough missions, his father would be proud of him again and come back for him. That maybe Okaa-chan and little Akemi were just hidden away somewhere and would come back to him if he could just become better than he was. That maybe, they left because he wasn't good enough, but would come back if he wasn't so stupid and helpless anymore.

He was so focused on his impossible dream of getting his family back that he forgot to treasure the family he still had; Rin, Obito, Minato_-sensei_, Kushina-_san_. That his refusal to focus on the present, rather than the past, had, indirectly, killed Obito.

_And angsting about it now will help no one_, he reminded himself sharply.

"Oi, Kakashi! We're going down to breakfast with Neville, are you coming?"

So Kakashi yawned and followed Ron and Harry down to breakfast, with a pause to make sure his _hitai-ate_ was on straight, as was his mask. Assured after this beauty check, he hopped down the steps with a light heart.

* * *

Kakashi sat next to Hermione and served himself a bowl of porridge. Even the porridge had cinnamon and maple syrup and sugar in it, but to his (slight) embarrassment, he had actually grown to like the food. It wouldn't be fun when he had to go back to half-cooked fish, rations, and food pills on missions. He was getting soft.

"Itadakimasu."

He gave Hermione a wry smile as Ron began chattering about the many wonders of the Wizard sport, Quidditch. It had been meant to be a sort of conciliatory gesture, after running out on her the other day. Hermione, being Hermione, took it with a grain of salt. This meaning, she avoided all eye contact or verbal communication during the meal and pointedly ignored his inquiries. He tried starting up a conversation several times, but she continued to pointedly ignore him.

It was rather awkward; he was not used to being the one doing the pestering and being ignored, and he didn't like it very much. How on earth did his fangirls manage to stay sane?

Oh. Actually, that explained a lot.

If it had been anyone else, Kakashi would have been delighted at one less member of his fanclub, and gone about his day with a smile. But this was Hermione Granger he was talking about. Her intelligence had gained his respect, and that was something very few people were able to claim these days. He got the distinct feeling that if she wasn't pestering him with questions, she might be investigating other topics; topics he would prefer she not find out about.

The moment the meal was over, she disappeared from the table, snatching up her bookbag and presumably scurrying off to the library. It troubled him. If there was anyone he did _not_ want to be looking into his past, Hermione Granger would top the list. She was too clever, and too good at finding out when things were being hidden. A good skill for a shinobi, but not one that Kakashi would like to see used against him, particularly as he was currently undercover.

Other than that, the meal was both nondescript and boring. Kakashi had settled on a steady diet of porridge, rice, and lettuce for all of his meals, as they were the only European foods he could stomach. The rest of it made him gag just by seeing it. Really, brisket? Who in their right mind would put carrots in mushed meat and call it food?

Not to mention that _all _of their dishes were gold-plated, and all of their napkins were embroidered cloth. There was just something odd about porridge in a gold-plated bowl. Hadn't these wizards ever considered disposable napkins?

He picked up a spoon and poked warily at the porridge in his bowl. When it did not move, change color, explode, or come to life, he decided that it was probably not enchanted in a way that might make him sick. He had discovered early on that it was always wise to look before leaping. Or in this case, eating.

Harry seemed to think that his porridge was bland, and ended up dumping a whole pile of sugar on it and stirring it in eagerly. How that kid stayed so skinny was beyond him... "So, what have we got today?"

Ron yawned, displaying several bits of bacon stuck between his teeth. "Double Potions with the Slytherins, I think. That'll be an hour and a half in the dungeons with that creepy professor, Snape. They say he always favors his house. We'll be able to see if it's true."

Harry wrinkled his nose. "I wish McGonagall went easy on us. I still haven't finished the homework from the first day. Have you, Kakashi?"

Kakashi nodded absently, eyes fixed on the door Hermione had left through. He only looked up when the mail owl came flying through, and a beautiful Snowy owl alighted next to Harry. It was hard to miss the way his green eyes lit up in delight and surprise. The kid really was lonely. Ron reached over and tugged the note off the bird's leg, handing it to Harry.

It wasn't a proper envelope, just a folded scrap of paper, but Harry still bounced slightly in excitement. "It's from Hagrid! He wants us to come over to his hut after classes today. Can you come, Ron?"

Ron nodded brightly. "That guy is bloody _awesome!_"

Harry looked at Kakashi. "What about you? I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't mind..."

Kakashi made a thoughtful pose, but he knew already that it wouldn't be practical. He could set a shadow clone to watch Harry, and and another to watch the Stone, but he really needed to train. He _really_ needed to train. He had trained once in three weeks. Sure, he went on missions for even longer than that where he didn't train, but at least then he was actively using his skills. Here...

"I was thinking of talking to Hermione."

Harry gave him an odd look. "What did you do to irritate her? It's not like I know her well, but she seemed a bit put-off."

Damn that kid was perceptive. Just his luck to have to guard the most inquisitive student on campus. For a moment he fantasized about giving Potter a good whack on the head to tone down his IQ a few notches, but shoved the notion quickly away. He didn't know if he could handle the temptation at the moment.

"I, uh, sort of accidentally ditched her on the way to DADA yesterday. I think I hurt her feelings..." Kakashi smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head in true Obito fashion.

Ron rolled his eyes, mouth full. "I don' blame yuh." He swallowed his eggs. "She's bloody annoying!"

Harry looked troubled. "She's been having a hard time lately. Pavarti was teasing her about her hair the other day, and she was really upset. You should probably apologize, Kakashi."

Kakashi almost choked on his piece of lettuce. "Apologize..."

"Well, yeah. It's what people do when they offend someone..."

Kakashi had never considered the notion of an apology. He had never needed to apologize to anyone. No one had ever asked for an apology, because he always did anything correctly. If Copy-nin Kakashi offended someone, they didn't ask for an apology. Kakashi was above apologies back home. He never had to apologize the Hokage or the client because of a mission gone wrong, because he didn't ever mess up missions. He was the small one, the one to look out for, the impossibly perfect student that made jounin at eleven.

Civilian children his age didn't go near him; he suspected that their parents had told them he was dangerous. His yearmates were less frightened and more standoffish. They included him because they were all friends with Rin, but they addressed him by '-san' instead of '-kun', like they would a real friend. He was just an unfortunate acquaintance of theirs.

Rin and Obito and Sensei were the only friends he had ever had. He had never apologized to Obito- he had thought that Obito wasn't worth an apology. Rin was so forgiving that he didn't need to apologize when he did something rude, and he respected Sensei so immensely that he had been careful never to do anything that might warrant an apology.

But Hermione, for good or ill, seemed to have become some kind of a friend. And he was going to have to learn the art of saying sorry.

He had a feeling that, prodigy or no, it wouldn't come to him easily.

* * *

"So... I just go in there and say sorry?" Kakashi looked back at Harry and Ron, both of whom were shooing him on with earnest expressions. If this didn't work, he was going to screw the mission and just murder them both.

And so, Kakashi did something that he couldn't have imagined doing a month ago. He shoved his hands into his pockets and awkwardly walked into the library.

Hermione was engrossed in a large, heavy textbook. It was literally bigger than she was, and she pored over the pages with extreme attention and care. She seemed to be afraid to touch it too clumsily, for fear of angering some obscure god of giant textbooks. A strange entrancement filled her eyes, like Minato-_sensei_ with ramen or himself learning a new technique. There was something respectful, almost holy, in the way she mouthed the words under her breath, eyes flitting from side to side.

He didn't really want to interrupt her, so he just sat silently across from her, waiting for her to notice him. It took a while, almost five minutes, while Harry and Ron gestured wildly from where they crouched behind a bookcase. They were miming for him to talk to her, but he got the feeling it would irritate her more than it would soothe her.

Finally, she caught a glimpse of him and flinched sharply, one hand flitting to her mouth. When she realized who it was sitting in front of her, she dropped her hand and glared. "What do you want, Kakashi?"

She didn't sound quite as peeved as she might have, and Kakashi was irrationally happy at the idea. It gave him heart that she hadn't called him by his surname. If she had, he probably would have made up an excuse and left. "I- um-"

"What is it? I have things to do, you know." Kakashi had taken several specialty ANBU level courses for detecting lies and emotion, as well as being trained specifically in body language during torture and interrogation. He was reasonably certain that Hermione did not in fact, have much of anything she needed to do, nor was she really all that angry at him.

"Look... I'm- I'm sorry, okay?" It came out more aggressive than he had intended, but he was shocked that his pride had allowed him to say the words at all.

Hermione seemed to note the same thing, and she looked at him with a cool, unconcerned glance. "That hard to say it, huh? Natural for someone as smug as you. I'm surprised that you know how to do it at all."

Kakashi bit his lip to keep from saying something he might regret. In Konoha, he wouldn't be here. He would have never been acquainted to her in the first place, and he wouldn't have to kowtow to a little bratty girl who thought she was all that. In Konoha, he had respect. Here, they were all self-centered brats who didn't know a good shinobi when they saw one.

He gritted his teeth and forced a smile on his face. "Look, do you want to make this any harder than it has to be?" he said, ignoring Harry's frantic mouthing of _No! No!_ and Ron motioning for him to stop, now. "I'm apologizing. You can either accept it, and we can be friends, or you can not accept it, and we can be enemies. Personally, I always think it's a tactical disadvantage to have more enemies than friends, but if you're determined to hate me I can make an exception."

Hermione's eyes widened at this new, sarcastic version of the friendly foreign exchange student, but she didn't actually say anything. Behind the bookshelf, Ron and Harry were slumped down, all gestures abandoned in their despair. It looked as though Harry was muttering, 'Nonononono..." into his hands, and Ron had his ears plugged.

"Well? Yes or no?" Friend or enemy? He really didn't want Granger as his enemy, but she might be just as bad as a friend.

"I don't want to be friends with a bully." Her voice was defiant but she looked like she was about to cry. Guilt twinged at Kakashi's heart for a moment, but he ignored it.

"It's agreed then. Enemies." He held out a hand. She took it hesitantly.

"Don't think I'll give up on finding out about you," she said softly. There was determination in that voice, and it meant pain for a certain Kakashi Hatake. "Your story doesn't fit. There are holes in it, and I'm going to find out why."

Kakashi smiled for real this time, and it made him look slightly like a feral dog, staring down its opponent with glittering eyes. "Of course, Granger. I wouldn't have it any other way."

She turned resolutely back to her monstrous textbook, and it was only then that Kakashi noted the title. It was written in faded lettering at the top, but it was clear in his perfect eyesight, and the vision seared itself into his mind.

The title was '_A Compendium of Eastern Development: Volume IV: Clan Warfare'.  
_

Damn, she was good.

* * *

"But why?" Harry protested for about the fiftieth time. "If you'd just go back and apologize properly, I'm sure she'd forgive you."

Kakashi smiled and waggled a finger at Harry. "No, no. She's my opponent now, and I respect her for that. When you're in a battle of wits, you don't turn yourself over to the enemy."

"But-"

"Call it a mutual understanding. I'm having fun here, and you want to ruin it for me?"

Harry inspected Kakashi doubtfully. "Losing the first friend you made since coming her and proclaiming a war of intelligence until one side backs down- you think that's fun?" Ron looked equally bewildered, chewing on a bagel that he still had from breakfast. "What, are you some kind of masochist, or just naturally belligerent?"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Naturally belligerent? Masochist? I'm insulted. I just like a good challenge is all, and Granger is going to put up a good fight. It's why we're friends; it's not every day I meet someone as intelligent as me, you know."

Harry laughed despite himself. "I thought you were enemies? Anyway, Hermione practically lives in the library. Whatever it is she's trying to find out, I doubt you'll be able to hide anything from her for too long. Prepare to lose dramatically."

"Hey, have some confidence in me! Jeez." And despite his words, Kakashi knew that it wasn't true. Why hadn't he checked the library, why hadn't he intervened when Granger started asking personal questions, why hadn't he prevented it all? He could have. Kakashi could do just about anything when he put his mind to it. Had he gotten lazy? Or (this thought was still more frightening) had he subconsciously _wanted _her to know about him, about his past?

He dismissed the idea, but the fact remained that he had to stop Granger.

And fast.

* * *

The dungeons were dank and cold. The torches cast eerie, flickering light about the stone walls, illuminating jars of what looked like pickled animals. A single human eye twitched in a glowing jar of green gel, and skulls lined the walls. Kakashi knew enough about the human anatomy to be able to tell that they were real.

The Potions classroom was of the same type. Fires glowed on the corners of the room, but they had been permitted to burn down to coals. The only real light was from thick, dripping candles that certainly caused a fire hazard. Fortunately, Kakashi had good night vision, and could maneuver his way to a seat, but the others stumbled and tripped and squinted into the gloom.

Kakashi hated the room. It reminded him too much of the torture chambers that he had been in for Jounin training, and when missions went bad. It wasn't a pleasant reminder at all.

He sat behind Harry and Ron, next to Neville.

Snape stood from a corner of the room. It was meant to be frightening, but since Kakashi knew for certain that he could defeat the man in a hand-to-hand combat, it didn't have quite the same effect as it might have had.

The professor called roll, pausing just three times. The first was for Kakashi. Snape said the name with a slight sneer, as if trying to get him to respond without actually provoking him. Kakashi just raised a lazy hand and leaned back in his seat, before he was docked a point for 'poor posture'.

The second pause was for a certain Draco 'Squeaky' Malfoy. Snape gave Slytherin a point for 'promptness,' and did something that might have been an attempt at a smile.

The third pause was when he reached Harry Potter. "Ah, yes. Our new _celebrity_."

He stared Harry down, his body language expressing disgust and hatred where his face remained emotionless. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potionmaking," he began.

The _gakis_, terrified, remained silent, and he continued. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will understand the beauty of the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death."

He dropped the mystic tone and adopted a more businesslike manner. "That is, if you aren't as big a bunch of idiots as I usually have to teach." Harry and Ron exchanged startled glances, and Kakashi stifled a laugh.

Snape sneered. "Since _some_ of you clearly think that this class is worth laughing over..." Snape gave him a glare, and he prepared himself for a session of verbal abuse. But to his shock, it was not him that Snape decided to pick on-

"Potter! What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry flinched slightly. "I-I don't know, sir."

Kakashi ignored the rest of the session. An unfortunate decision, it turned out.

Snape's eyes were glinting in triumph. "Well, if you don't know, Potter, then I suppose Hatake, who is comfortable enough to let his mind wander, should be able to answer the question. Hatake?"

Kakashi, who had been pondering the subject of where the architects had acquired all of the skulls in the wall, looked up dully, mid-yawn. 'Squeaky' and Co. snickered. "Pardon?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for a daydreaming foreigner. The question was, 'What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?'"

Kakashi blinked.

_ Sensei spread the plants out on the ground, smiling brightly. 'Today I'm going to teach you about herbal remedies and natural poisons. This one here, with the blue flower, is aconite. It goes by other names; monkshood, wolfsbane, leopard's bane... the list goes on. What I'll be teaching you today...'_

_ The four year old class from Kunoichi Preschool was out picking flowers near where Kakashi's team was training. One of the bigger girls began bullying a smaller, until a third chucked a head of flowers into the bully's mouth with the accuracy of a senbon.  
"Shinobi flower aconite__," the third little girl said brightly. "It only has weak toxicity, but it is poisonous, so you'd best spit them out."  
The older girl ran away screaming, and the third girl turned to her friend with a whisper. "Actually, it's just the roots that are poisonous." _**[1]**_  
_

_ An old lady was screaming at a shamefaced Obito. "Fool boy, leaving the monkshood where the cats can get at it! I'll be notifying your superiors of your negligence!"  
_

Kakashi cleared his throat awkwardly"They are the same plant. In Japan we call it aconite, from the genus _aconitum_. It has blue or yellow flowers, and can be found in gardens for deocorative purposes. Its roots are highly toxic; you shouldn't leave it where there are livestock, but it can be made into a poison called _bikh_ that is known as the 'Queen of Poisons'. It kills by paralyzing the respiratory center or the heart, and the only signs of cause of death are those of asphyxia. In small doses it can be made into a medicine which reverses Yang deficiency in the-"

"-Very well, we already have one know-it-all in the class, Hatake. We don't need another." Snape cut him off.

Kakashi had just been citing from memory, not actually focusing on the situation. He looked up, slightly startled, to see Harry and Ron looking put-off, the rest of the Gryffindors looking stunned, the Slytherins snickering, and Hermione with a frighteningly triumphant look in her eye. That couldn't mean anything good.

Kakashi had carefully positioned himself between Seamus and Neville, but when he turned, Neville had somehow partnered off with Lavender Brown while Seamus was with Dean. And sneaky little Hermione had positioned herself right next to him.

She smiled sweetly. "Partner with me?"

She really had a way of getting on his nerves.

* * *

"I don't even _know _this guy! I can't just go waltzing into his house! I wasn't invited!" Kakashi dug his heels into the ground, resisting the desperate attempts of Harry and Ron to tug him away. "He'll be offended. Do you want people to not like me?"

Of course, this was untrue. Kakashi had met Hagrid twice during the week before term started. The man was very good-natured, and unlikely to take offense at one more (albeit uninvited) guest. Kakashi's main concern was that Hagrid knew him, and his mission. Hagrid would never tell a secret that Dumbledore had asked him not to tell, but he wasn't the most...subtle... of men.

"Hagrid's nice! Really!"

"I have to do homework."

"It's the second day of school."

"I have to keep up on my lessons from the academy, too," he explained, allowing a little of his tiredness to show through. "They're sending my assignments by mail, and it's important that I don't get behind."

Ron stared. "No wonder you're friends with Hermione. She must have been attracted by your study-freak aura."

"We aren't friends anymore."

"You're taking two years' worth of classes at once, at two different schools," the redhead sniffed. "Talk about overachiever."

"My guardian insisted that I don't get behind. He's rather emphatic about those sorts of things."

"Fine," Harry said, "But you're coming with us the next time we go to Hagrid's, mark my words!"

"Count them as marked and proceed."

"I will. C'mon, Ron, let's go!"

Kakashi watched the two of them run across the grounds, carefree as toddlers. Envy welled up in his chest, but he crushed it in one swift blow. He wasn't going to sink to such a level of Obito-ness as to be jealous of someone else. And in any case, what could he have to be jealous of? He was a top shinobi in his village and he brought honor to his clan and his sensei. There was nothing else that he could want out of life.

Nothing else that he was _supposed_ to want.

He closed his eyes, ignoring the twangs of jealousy tugging at his heartstrings, and began to meditate on the front steps. There was nothing to life but becoming a tool for the village. Nothing at all.

His eyes snapped open, even Obito's eye under the hitai-ate, and they were both filled with glistening liquid fire. Obito's will of fire combined with his own, as well as the will of fire he inherited from his father- with such force as this, he could not, and would not lose. If he hung on with pure force of will, it would be enough for him.

Unbeknownst to all, a small, bushy-haired girl watched from above, smiling to herself as she made brisk notes on a sheet of parchment.

* * *

**[1] This section was copied almost word-for-word from one of the Naruto episodes. Cookies to anyone who can guess; put your answer in a review or a PM, and I'll dedicate the next chapter to you!**

**I know, I know, this chapter was much shorter then I meant it to be originally. Don't kill me, please. I'm already really sick at the moment; you may not need to.**

**Review, and make my cold go away!**

**~Crysanth  
**


	9. In Which: Inquisitive Minds Run Rampant

**FYI, to anyone interested- I am actually very sorry about the monstrous wait between chapters. It wasn't- I repeat, _wasn't_- my fault. At all. See, that C I have in Algebra II seemed to be sufficient reason for my parents to take away my laptop. So. This entire chapter was written on my school computer in the media in the 3 minutes before class starts, or (like now) from 11:00-2:00 at night on my brother's laptop. Needless to say, my parents are not aware of this last one...**

**So. Not my fault. BLAME THE PARENTS! And the insane amounts of homework I have these days. Plus this chapter was nastily hard to write. It was like trying to projectile-vomit words, only more painful. It's like that quote by that guy I can't remember, the one that says, "Genius begins great works, but labor alone completes them." This must be the 'labor and sweat' phase setting in.**

**Also, I was under siege by many adorable plot bunnies. It was extremely hard to resist their charms. In any case, as things stand, I can't honestly promise you improvement in the next few updates. They will probably continue to be just as poor as today's. What I CAN promise you is that I won't abandon the story, ever. Unless I, you know, die.  
**

**The chapter is dedicated (as promised) to reviewers **_A.C.Y.P., Knobbly Knees, Panda123, evil-step-sister, totaltheTERRIER, _**and **_fancyfairy_**, for correctly guessing the episode reference in the last chapter. Congrats!**

**For those of you who didn't know, didn't cheat by looking at others' reviews, or didn't want to waste time by looking it up, the answer was _Episode 42 of Naruto; "The Ultimate Battle: Shannaro!". _Or as the charming review from **_Panda123_** put it, **"That part was when Ino and Sakura were in the flower field during a flashback in the Chuunin Examns. Those girls were picking on Sakura for having a big forehead, so Ino took action and scared the living fuck out of them."

**Thank you, and enjoy!**

**(The following was written while listening to my brother's playlist of Billy Joel and Taylor Swift. I feel obliged to tell you that, due to the above reason, I may not have been completely sane at the time. Blame any errors in my writing on the horrors of my brother's music tastes. Really. Do not blame me, at all. XD)**

**

* * *

**

_Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk._

_Craacck!_

The shinobi's single visible eye widened in distress as the tough pine wood split and shattered under the force of his kick. It leaned, teetering dangerously before finally losing it's tenuous balance and falling to the forest floor below. He skipped aside and landed on a slightly mossy rock as the tree came crashing down into the ferns. Birds took off and circled, relocating to quieter areas of the forest after the startling, earth-shaking shock of the falling tree.

The tree stump was almost four feet around at the base, with tough, gnarly bark and knotted wood. Like all of the trees in the forest, it looked ancient and almost sacred in the dark circle of trees. That is, before it had been punched and kicked and slammed by Kakashi's most powerful attacks. Now it was whittled by the blows to just a few inches in the center.

That last kick must have been too much pressure for it to bear and still stand upright. It was remarkable that it had lasted this long, actually. The punch Kakashi packed could knock out a hippo, and he had been pounding away at that hunk of wood for several hours now. It took years of growth to achieve the thick, overlapping, tangled bark that adorned this oak.

He sat on the fallen trunk, leaning back to rest his head on the bark. It never really sat comfortably, no matter how he fidgeted, so finally he just laid it to the left of a knot of wood and ignored the irritation. His face was slicked with sweat, and his hair was tangled with leaves and bits of moss. If anyone back home saw him like this; harried, tired, mussed- Obito and Rin would have really given it to him. After all, the legendary Hatake kid was never seen without his composure.

The shinobi sat up and winced. Taking off his shirt, he picked up his water bottle from the leather bag on the ground and dumped it over his head. It brought some relief, but not much. The slight throbbing in his head worsened to a focused pain- a headache of the nth degree.

Kakashi hissed in pain as he massaged his muscles. He really was getting out of shape; three weeks without the slightest bit of training and he got sore after a little bitty two-hour workout. And his physique wasn't the only thing getting lazy; his focus was drifting, and his strategical planning was lax and flawed. If anyone decent had wanted to kill Potter in the last few days, he would have been incapable of stopping them.

He was an embarrassment to his sensei, that was for certain. And even if Minato didn't care what people thought of him, Kakashi worried for him. Someday, Minato's life or death would depend on whether or not there were people in power who favored him, and if he had a student who was an asset to the village, it might just turn the odds in his favor.

He cocked his head.

No birds.

No cicadas.

No wind.

The forest was completely and unequivocally silent. The sudden change made him tense and slip his shirt back on, pulling on the red-streaked mask and reaching for his sword.

_Trust your instincts, Kakashi._ Well, right now his instincts were telling him that if he didn't get out of there, fast, he would be in very real danger of dying slowly and painfully. They were also telling him that he should investigate before dying slowly and painfully, so that he could get the information back to Sarutobi-sama.

With these two conflicting emotions tearing at his insides, he slid the sheath for his sword over his head and pulled the shuriken from the tree in several swift, fluid movements. He shoved them into his shuriken holster, not bothering to even sharpen or clean them off like he normally did. Even in the most dangerous situations, he always took care of his tools... but this feeling made him...

... It made him feel cold inside.

And it was coming closer.

Mentally he weighed the mission in his mind. There was a chance to gain information on potential enemies, but from the sheer killing intent emanating from the surrounding area, it would probably be a tough fight, should it come down to it. And if he was preoccupied with this _thing_, then any Joe Schmoe off the street could take out Harry at a moment's notice. Kage Bunshin weren't of any use in an actual fight unless the original was there as well.

Damn. He had been taking a risk in any case, going so far into the forest and leaving both Harry and the Philosopher's Stone with minimal protection. A death could occur in less than a moment- he knew that better than anyone- and it could never, ever be reversed. Leaving Potter in that bodyguard's nightmare of a school, with effing _kage bunshin_ as primary protection?

He cursed himself internally, beginning to sweat.

Snatching up his stuff, he launched from treetop to treetop, flying like a demon back to the castle.

* * *

Harry heard the portrait open. He glanced up from his game of wizard's chess with Ron, only to see a tired, harried Kakashi clamber through the opening. walked in, shivering slightly and looking kind of beat up, like he hadn't been sleeping well.

"Um, Kakashi? Are you feeling okay? It looks like you're coming down with something. Knight to C-4... damnit, there was no need to bite! Okay, okay, fine. Knight to C-6. Happy now?" Harry glanced up at his bedraggled classmate. "Hey, are you listening? Earth to Kakashi, wake up!"

Ron sighed. "Harry, you can't give in to your chess pieces all of the time. They don't want to be put out of commission, but that's like a double-sided tape-"

"-sword, you mean-"

"Sword, tape, what's the difference? Anyway, my point is, it works both ways. It can help give you advice to keep away from trouble, but if you listen to them all of the time, you can't make any sacrifices, and you lose the game anyway. And Harry's right, Kakashi, you look like hell frozen over. Stress getting to you? It's only two weeks into the term, so it can't be that bad, I'm sure."

Kakashi seemed to notice them for the first time. "Oh, hey, Harry, Ron." He inspected the chessboard. "Is this Shogi or something?"

Ron looked horrified. "You don't know how to play wizard's chess? What is wrong with you people? I have got to teach you, Kakashi- I'm the best person I know at chess."

Harry stood up quickly and offered Kakashi his chair. "You can play, I was losing horribly anyway."

Kakashi inspected the board and analyzed the position of the pieces. If he knew the original positioning, or how they were laid down, it might be easier to tell how the game was played. The side of the board was marked with tiny gold lettering, numbers and letters, like a map grid or something. In that case, was it some kind of strategy game in which one commanded the pieces to move and, from the looks of the rubble, destroy the opponent's pieces.

He got the distinct feeling that he was going to be very, very good at this game.

Ron snapped his fingers, and all of the pieces instantly repaired and zoomed back to their rightful places on the board, each lined in two rows. The row closest to Kakashi were a variety of styles, usually two of each one in a symmetrical alignment. The corner pieces looked like tower turrets, and the two second from the end carved into horse-heads. One in from that was a cone with a diagonal slit, and the two innermost pieces were different spiky designs.

The small, identical ones in front were clearly the least powerful, but in the highest supply, like genin fresh from the academy. They would be good as an attacking force or a diversion, but not the best for subterfuge. Until he knew how the pieces moved, he didn't want to hazard a guess on the other pieces.

Ron explained the game, and Kakashi decided that the three pieces on the outermost of the second row were high-ranking chuunin, with the two in the middle as Special Jounin or ANBU. An interesting set up, to be sure.

Kakashi, playing as the 'white' side, went first. "Pawn to D-4."

Then, to his shock, the pawn turned around and said in a high, abnormally squeaky voice, "Don't be stupid, he can send out his knight there and get me! How idiotic are you?"

Kakashi was quite nonplussed. His chess piece was talking back to him? "Not as stupid as you."

The pawn gaped. "I'm sorry? You're sending me out for suicide, here, and you're telling me I'm stupid?"

Kakashi hardened his glare. "You are disgusting. Willing to trade the success of the mission for your own skin, rebuking a commanding officer. Do you have no self respect, soldier?"

"I'm not going to go out there and kill myself!"

The one-eyed shinobi suddenly let out a huge amount of pent-up killing intent, and directed it straight at that pawn. "That is exactly what you are going to do. You are going to sacrifice yourself for the good of the mission. Why? Because you are a tool. It is your duty to be used in whatever manner I see fit. Got it?"

The pawn nodded mutely and moved to D- 4, was promptly destroyed by Ron's knight, and left an opening right to the king. Within a few moves, and with no other sacrifices, Kakashi had won, and the chess team looked at him with new respect.

Kakashi yawned. "All right, I'm going to sleep." He pointed at the chess set. "And if any of you start mouthing off to Harry, I'll hear of it, understand?"

And he walked out of the room, leaving behind a gaping Ron, a startled Harry, and a very, _very_ relieved chess set.

* * *

When Hermione entered the Common Room upon her return from the library, the first thing she noticed was that Harry and Ron were sitting on the couch with vacant expressions of shock. Now, with Ron, this was not altogether abnormal, but Harry typically had more presence of mind than to sit about in such an _uncomplimentary_ manner.

But ant the moment she didn't have time to worry about that. She plunked herself down next to Harry and began to talk, as only Hermione Granger could talk.

"I think that Hatake is hiding something. His backstory doesn't fit together, and what I've read about wizardry in the East doesn't quite fit his description. I thought, since you guys are friends, you could ask him some questions for me. I've made a list of things that don't fit just right, or things that are unusual, and this is what I have so far."

Harry seemed to snap out of his momentary shock. "What, you think he's a spy or something?" He looked to Ron, who was still staring at the chess set in a dumbstruck fashion. "Is that, like, normal for wizards? I mean, he's our age."

Ron didn't move, but his lips twitched and a high, disbelieving voice could be heard in a whisper. "He... beat me... at _chess_. Never played before and he _beat _me. _Me._"

Hermione smiled. "Well then, that just proves my point, doesn't it?"

"You really do think he's a spy, then?"

"No!" She turned bright red, and Harry guessed that something along these lines had, in fact, been going through her head at some point. "But, you know, who in their right mind wears a _mask _to school? I've never once seen his face, and I eat _lunch_ right next to him. His food goes somewhere, but never once have I seen him pull his mask down and actually put the food in his mouth."

Harry nodded musingly. "Yeah. And he's a bit off sometimes. Like, how does he do wandless magic? But I don't know, Hermione, he strikes me as a really nice guy. I don't think he's up to anything bad."

"You're basing this off of his social skills!" Hermione looked startled.

"Well, yeah. What else would I base it off of?" Harry asked. "I think he's just a really nice guy. You should lay off him, Hermione. I know you're mad at him because he ditched you earlier, but he was just going to help us when we got lost. It was only thanks to him that we got to Defense Against the Dark Arts on time. We probably would have been really late if it weren't for his help."

"Oh." Hermione deflated a little. "But that magic he uses. It's really unusual and complicated- it involves the beginnings of NEWT level Arithmancy and Defense Against the Dark Arts. I've never read anything about it before. You have to admit that's suspicious."

Harry frowned. "I thought he explained it to you. It can't be that big of a secret if he all out and told you, right?"

"Well, I suppose-"

Unfortunately, Ron took this moment to snap out of his confusion and focus on the situation. "Huh- Oh, right. Bugger off, Hermione, you need to stop pestering Kakashi! He's a nice guy!"

Hermione stood and regarded the half-asleep redhead with disdain, and even a little hurt glimmering in the back of her eyes. "Well then. Harry, I'd like to ask you to at least keep an eye on him. He could be dangerous. Sorry for wasting your time."

With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, overlarge bookbag hanging over her thin shoulder dangerously. Despite her words, her voice had shaken ever so slightly. Harry and Ron watched her in silence with raised eyebrows, but said nothing to one another except, "Play me again, Ron?" and "No, I think I'll go to sleep now."

* * *

Kakashi lay down in his bed and sighed, letting all his breath out in a loud 'phhh'. He had to admit that, as silly as they had seemed, the pillows really were comfortable. Probably it was more of that magic stuff. A pillow fluffing charm? He couldn't help it- he had to let out a short giggle at the thought. A bunch of distinguished looking men in robes, discussing how, exactly, one should go about developing a charm for fluffing pillows. It was an amusing thought, one that in later days would help him keep sane under torture.

But really. Him, _giggling_? This place was getting to him.

He closed his eyes and leaned further back. His feet were sore from training, and he was cold from head to toe. It was almost October now, and the weather was beginning to cool rapidly, at a pace unheard of back in Konoha. He had heard that it even snowed here in winter, hence the cloaks in the uniform.

He shivered. It was cold enough now. What vengeful god did the British offend to get such torment dished out to them every winter? He missed the hot, colorful rooftops of Konoha, the warm green light in the forest, the smell of sweat and the clang of kunai under a cloudless blue sky. It was always cloudy here, always covered in fog, always gray and dark. Gargoyles and misty-topped towers and candlelight, but no red scarves or green vests or bright orange goggles.

He could feel the lump of the goggles under the pillow, pressing into the back of his neck. Here they had extra-fluffed pillows and ghosts, the smell of dust and parchment and candle wax. It was smothering, all the shades of gray.

After nearly working himself into a panic attack out there in the 'Forbidden Forest', he had rushed back, thrown a robe on over his muddy training uniform, and hoped no one looked at his feet. To find his charge and his charge's best friend calmly playing some strategical game in the warm, _safe_, comfortable common room was a startling prospect.

He had taken a single look at the pair and had discovered that Harry was losing rather badly, and that Ron had a sense of foresight and losses. It came as a surprise; the redhead was not one for breaking out with previously unheard of talents, and Kakashi's experience had proven the boy to be somewhat crude, mediocre at wandwork, and astonishingly similar to Obito.

He could excuse his actions up to there, he supposed.

And then he completely and totally blew it.

If they didn't know that something was odd about his backstory before, they would certainly suspect him now. And if Hermione could get them on her side, he would be screwed.

Telling a small, sentient, wooden game piece how it should obey him. Not only that, but the terminology, the tone, the goddamned military speak he had used- the same words that would get people's attention back home. It got their attention here, too, but not attention of the appropriate kind. This was unwanted.

Kakashi had no doubt that he had left three very inquisitive minds on the other side of that door. And inquisitive minds had a tendency to get together and run rampant, destroying false backgrounds and lies like battle rams.

Someday soon, Kakashi would have nothing left to hide behind.

* * *

_Dear Rin;_

_Tell sensei I said hi, and tell Minoru that he's an idiot. Yes, I miss you, too. My mission is mind-numbingly dull thus far, and not looking to change any time soon. I'll be fine, but I could swear that my IQ has dropped about fifty notches just by associating with these people. The food is weird. I miss Kushina-san's cooking, even though it's usually burnt. Compared to this, I could even stomach Ichiraku's ramen. (Please don't tell Minato-sensei that I said that. Please. Really.)_

_So. Good luck with everyone, I guess. And whatever you do, please, DON'T GIVE GAI THIS ADDRESS! _

_Ja,_

_Hatake Kakashi  
Special Jounin  
Konohagakure no Sato_

Kakashi folded that slip of parchment and slid it into the message tube, before taking a new sheet and writing out in code;

_MISSION REPORT_

_Agent(s): Hatake Kakashi, Special Jounin  
Codename(s): none  
Rank: S/ Unranked  
Title: Hogwarts_

_Maintained my cover thus far. One individual (see HERMIONE GRANGER for character analysis) has shown undue interest in the 'wizard' backstory, but there have been no further developments on that front. Will update on further notice. I will continue along this same line until you say otherwise. Can manage a passing imitation of magic for demonstration when necessary._

_I have several suspects that may work for these 'Dark Forces', including the three most likely; Severus Snape, Quirenus Quirrel, and Rolanda Hooch. All three have distinctly separate personalities, but it is clear that all have something to hide and/or have shown undue dislike to the charge. (See POSSIBLY EVIL for further information.)_

_The 'holiday season' here stretches from late October to the beginning of January. I would like to file a request for backup during that time, if at all possible. See the attached form for reference._

_All in all, a success. Will write on further notice._

_Until then,_

_Hatake Kakashi  
Special Jounin  
Konohagakure no Sato_

Kakashi sighed and blew lightly on the paper to dry the ink, before sliding this one, too, into the metal message tube. After adding the necessary chakra seal (so that it would self-destruct if opened by anyone except a Konoha ninja), he tied it with the orange ribbon and the blue ribbon, latching it securely to Hae's back.

She took off from the perch silently, flying happily back to her homeland.

Kakashi wished he could do the same.

* * *

**I know it's short. I know it's poorly edited. Please don't kill me! I worked for weeks on this thing... and it's such a disappointment.  
**

**And yet, I still have the audacity to ask for reviews.**

**~Crysanth  
**


	10. In Which: Kakashi Tries Defying Gravity

**Don't mind me, I'm just updating for the first time in two years... ****Eep! *takes cover as angry readers begin chucking rotten tomatoes in her general direction***

**Please forgive me! **

**This chapter is dedicated to every single one of my wonderful reviewers who took me to task for ignoring this story. You guys are why I'm returning to finish what I started. Thank you all so, so much for your encouragement. I do read every single review, and they all mean a lot to me.  
**

* * *

Kakashi gazed in dismay at the large, brightly colored poster in the Gryffindor common room.

SOAR TO NEW HEIGHTS

it proclaimed in large letters (that appeared to be _sparkling at him_), followed by:

FIRST YEARS' FLYING LESSONS

Thursday, September 31, 3:30pm

Join your classmates for a session of  
flying, fun, and fellowship on the side lawn  
with Madam Hooch

Beginners welcome!  
We provide the broomsticks, so just bring  
a good attitude and a smile!

"What the hell?" he muttered to himself.

Was this some kind of joke? Because yeah, he'd heard something about 'flying broomsticks' or whatever, but he'd just taken it as some hobby for slightly insane daredevils with way too much free time. If you really wanted to get somewhere, you could just Apparate. Or 'Floo' (although that method seemed to have some obvious flaws as well.) Or jeez, maybe just take a train? Or _walk_?

In any case, he'd never actually considered that they would _encourage_ small children to take up an activity that seemed about as child-friendly as the Ninja Academy's games of Hide 'n Explode.

But he was overreacting.

No one would actually be insane enough to want to do this, he assured himself. No one on _earth_ could possibly-

"Hey, Harry!" cried Ron in delight, bounding up to get a better look at the poster. "Flying lessons! This is awesome! C'mon, we've got to get signed up right away, what if they run out of brooms?"

(Kakashi made a mental note not to tempt fate.)

"I don't know about this," Harry said uncertainly. "It sounds kind of dangerous, and I've never flown before-"

"Yes!" Kakashi interjected with a smile. "Why don't we all enjoy a lovely morning with our feet planted firmly on the ground? Why, we might even come to realize that flying isn't so exciting after all, and then wouldn't we regret having so wasted a fine autumn day? Come on, Harry, let's get ourselves signed up for the Gobstones Club! Delightful, non-elevated, and completely stationary fun- and Gobstones is _so _ much more cost-effective-"

"_What_?!" Ron was aghast. "You've got to be kidding!"

"Ron-" began Harry, but was cut off when-

"_You've_ got to be kidding," retorted Kakashi flatly.

"Huh?"

"_Flying_ about on a flimsy bit of _wood_, hundreds of meters up? I don't know if you've noticed, but we humans are not naturally buoyant. If anything goes wrong while you're zipping about at ridiculously high speeds, you will not _float_. You will accelerate downwards towards the earth and you will go _splat_." the silver-haired teen emphasized this last bit with a gesture that really did seem to indicate _splat_.

To Kakashi's relief, Harry was looking more than a little freaked out. Good. Maybe he'd survive awhile longer.

Ron opened his mouth. "It's not that dangerous," he said stubbornly.

_He did not just say that._

"I'm sorry," Kakashi said with deceptive mildness. "Perhaps _splat _wasn't a strong enough word? How about _kablooey_?"

"No," Ron insisted. "I mean, it's really not."

He saw red for a moment. "How can you _possibly_-"

"-'cause it _would _ be dangerous, I guess, with all the beginners flying at the same time. But they've got Feather-Falling charms, I think, and all the broomsticks are enchanted so you can only go so fast until you've got a handle on the basics, and there're teachers there supervising, and they'd never let anyone go higher than thirty meters." The redhead's expression was earnest. "It's really not that bad."

Kakashi paused and took a deep breath.

Opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it, and then counted to fifty very quickly in his head.

Took another breath.

"Do what you like, Ron," he said at last. "Maybe you'll be safe, like you say. Maybe you'll have fun, and emerge completely unharmed. Maybe magic really does make it safe. But all the magic in the world can't make anything perfectly safe, and just _maybe_, one little thing goes wrong. People tend to be _really_, _really_ fragile."

It was, to Kakashi's surprise, Harry who answered.

He held the shinobi's gaze with his steady green eyes. "Nothing in the world is ever perfectly safe, though. Is learning to fly with so many protective charms any more dangerous than learning to play Gobstones without a single one?"

Kakashi laughed wryly. "Small wonder you're a Gryffindor," he said with just a hint of irony.

Then, to the astonishment of both, he stepped forward, took the pen, and wrote his name in Japanese neatly on the very first line of the poster's sign-up sheet. Harry and Ron both gaped at him in bewilderment.

"I can't very well let you guys show me up, can I?" Tiredly, he tossed the pen to Ron. "Knock yourself out."

As he stalked out of the Common Room, he was very conscious of two questioning stares from behind him. He ignored them. If they asked, he'd just say he was scared of heights. But they wouldn't ask; it wasn't in their natures to just question things directly. Probably they'd end up holding covert discussions with Professor McGonagall, asking if he'd ever had some horrific broomstick trauma in his life.

Really, if there was anything at all Kakashi had learned about Hogwarts, it was was that absolutely _everyone_ was up for learning everyone else's deep dark secrets, and it was no use claiming you didn't have any.

_Nice, Potter_, he thought to himself. _Looking danger in the face and not backing down. Admirable, I guess. __It'd all be fine and dandy if I weren't dragged into it as well. _

No use dwelling on the past, he chided that part of himself mildly.

After all, he had a flying lesson to prepare for.

* * *

"And in _Quidditch Through the Ages,_ it talks all about how horribly the players were injured in the beginning- even with magical healing, can you imagine?" Hermione's words were tumbling out too quickly, almost incoherent. "There were all sorts of horrible fouls, too, and then when they charmed boulders to fly around the court- sort of inspired by that Scottish game, really dangerous-"

"Yep," he agreed, only half-listening.

In her anxiety about the upcoming day of flying lessons (an anxiety which Kakashi shared wholeheartedly), she had temporarily forgotten her grudge against him. He had absolutely no problem with this; the more concerned she was about broomsticks and Quidditch, the less concerned she was about uncovering Kakashi's true identity.

For the silver-haired teen, it was a welcome respite.

On the other hand, he didn't like the _cause_ of the respite: the whole broomstick affair _still _didn't sit well with him. He knew why, of course. It was because his charge, Harry James Potter, had a charming knack for attracting trouble in even the most seemingly innocuous of situations. What sort of trouble he would find when he was suspended in the air by a fragile chakra device and no prior training- well, Kakashi didn't have _quite_ as much faith in the teachers' protection as Ron did.

Which was why he was also taking part in an activity so delightfully moronic as _broomstick riding._

Kakashi did his best to put these pessimistic thoughts aside as they approached the side lawn where the lesson was taking place. ("Bring a good attitude and a smile!" the poster had insisted.)

Then he paused and did a double-take.

There were... a lot of people there.

Actually, it looked like every single first-year student in the entire school had shown. It had been common knowledge that Seamus was a big Quidditch fan, and that he'd convinced Dean Thomas to give it a try. And of course Kakashi, Harry, and Ron had signed up. But there, along with the rest and sweating nervously was timid Neville Longbottom. On the other side of the lawn, Patil and Brown were giggling over a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

There weren't just Gryffindors, either. Under the lilac bush, a group of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff girls were talking animatedly about broomsticks, flying, and someone named Cedric. Three Ravenclaw boys were talking to two Slytherins. Two Hufflepuff boys, one Hufflepuff girl, and two Ravenclaw girls were a merry troupe, playing some kind of game in the shade.

For the most part, the Slytherins were clannish in proximity. They hung together on the edge of the lawn, talking very quietly or merely waiting in silence, never straying very far from the pack. Only a few interacted with the other Houses; the two boys, the Davis girl, and the Greengrass girl were the only instances of this that he could see.

Kakashi resisted the urge to sigh.

They were wizards. Of _course_, the one thing that they would all participate in with uniform solidarity was the single most worthless activity in the entire wizarding world. Why had he ever even considered otherwise?

He did not rush to the nearest stone wall and bang his head against it. He _didn't_.

Instead, he turned to Ron and Harry, opened his mouth to say-

"_BWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET!_"

For a moment there was only ringing. Then the pain hit full force.

"Godammit!" he hissed, only barely able to hear himself. "Ow, ow, ow, ow ow. Shit, that hurts. Ow."

The world spun, then stabilized. Kakashi lifted his hands from his ears experimentally, braced for more pain-

That _infernal sound_ had, it seemed, finally stopped. His ears were still ringing, though.

Damn his stupid hypersensitive hearing, incapacitating him at a time like this. And while he was on the subject, damn all loud and high pitched noises, and _especially_ damn all ridiculously loud whistles and damn thrice again whoever was moronic and insensitive enough to use one without warning and with absolutely no reasonable purpose whatsoever.

Forget 'possibly evil'; Rolanda Hooch was going on his 'urgent extermination' list as of five minutes ago.

He opened his eyes, hoping-

-but no. As he had suspected, no one had failed to notice the transfer student's sudden panic episode. Therefore, the gazes of twenty-seven first-year students were glued to his face, decorated with a bizarre mixture of concern and fascination that was giving him a headache already.

He took a breath and stood, brushing himself off and ignoring the dizziness that swept over him.

It was still silent.

Finally, Kakashi gave up. "All right, everyone. I'm saying this once, so listen up."

No one moved an inch.

"My ears," Kakashi explained, enunciating slowly and carefully, "are hypersensitive. That means I have an abnormally good sense of hearing. Thus, due to the loudness and the pitch of the whistle, I was momentarily in pain. That is _ all._

"And," he continued dryly, "While we are on the subject, I would like to preemptively state that this is not a secret of any kind, that I am hiding absolutely nothing of interest, and that yes, it is a medical condition, and no, it is not any of your business. This is not evidence for anything at all except that I have unusually sensitive ears. However, if you deliberately attempt to make noise around me after I have made this point unmistakeably clear, I will be... very annoyed. Understood?"

A few people nodded. Neville Longbottom looked petrified.

_Nice going,_ Kakashi thought to himself scathingly. _Terrify the living daylights out of them, why don't you?_

"Mr. Hatake is quite right that it is none of your business," agreed the crisp voice of Madam Hooch from the middle of the lawn. "As for you, Mr. Hatake, I am very sorry for having caused you distress. You may sit out for the rest of the lesson, if you like, or I can perform a general muffling charm to remedy the whistle's piercing sound." She rounded on the rest of the students. "What we will _not_ do is waste any further lesson time with unimportant chitchat!"

She surveyed the students, as if gauging the likelihood that they would obey her. Then, she sighed.

"All right, everyone. I've unlocked the broom paddock, so everybody go and fetch one..."

* * *

The rest of the flying lesson passed without incident.

Kakashi spent the entire time waiting for catastrophe, fidgeting nervously, feeling suffocated and restricted under the general muffling charm that Madam Hooch had placed on him, and always, always keeping a strict eye on Harry. With his ears' use limited, he had to be twice as vigilant, twice as aware, twice as perfect as he always was.

So, when the end of practice came and Madam Hooch collected the brooms from the students, Kakashi was rather nonplussed.

Where was the conflict? The drama? The absolute struggle of good versus evil?

He had already felt like he had a good idea of how the lesson was going to pan out: namely, one of the Slytherins (who had been eagerly playing their parts as child proto-villains up to now) would do something dastardly and cruel to one of the weak Hufflepuff girls (who had displayed a notable tendency towards wimpiness). After that, his charge would be unable to abandon the poor victim in her moment of need, and would bravely stand up for the side of righteousness (because his charge was stupid and impulsive enough to do something like that.)

And then the cunning, sneaky Slytherin would do something characteristically cunning and sneaky, and Kakashi's charge would be riled into doing something stupid and falling off of his broom.

That was how it was _supposed_ to happen.

Instead, the lesson had ended peacefully, with a general air of good humor among the assembled first years.

Harry had turned out to be quite talented at broomstick riding. (Now Kakashi thought about it, Harry had a strong affinity in general for all things potentially life-threatening, and he really ought to have expected it.) There had been nothing overtly cruel or dastardly, really. The Malfoy brat had sent a few jibes in Hermione's direction at first, but after Kakashi glanced at him pointedly, he had abruptly silenced himself.

And certainly the lesson itself was nothing special at all.

Yes, it was true. Kakashi had been unimpressed with flying.

All the talk about _'having confidence in your broom_' had been absolute nonsense, of course.

Ron and Malfoy were good because they'd had practice. (Kakashi winced at the thought of letting a nine-year-old near an artifact that went at very high speeds so far up in the air, but that was how it was.) Harry and Kakashi were good because they had good balance and coordination and they picked up things quickly. Hermione was not good because she had poor reflexes and a mild fear of heights. Neville was not good because he had poor reflexes, was jumpy, had a severe fear of heights, and Kakashi was beginning to suspect that he just wasn't good at much of anything.

Flying hadn't been interesting at all. The adrenaline rush really lacked a sense of novelty when you'd been fighting in life-or-death battles since you were five and a half. It also wasn't as exciting when you knew you could probably run faster than _really uncomfortable_ device you were sitting on, and that even if you fell from that height you'd escape completely unscathed. It wasn't fun to sit still, then slowly rise five feet, then descend, then rise ten feet, then turn, then descend, over and over and over until _finally _Madam Hooch decided that maybe it would be okay if they all circled the lawn very, very slowly.

And it really wasn't fun to try and keep an eye on Harry Potter the entire time.

It seemed, however, that none of the other students shared his opinion.

As they returned to the castle in twos and threes in the golden sunlight of the late afternoon, there was a chorus of happy chatter from all of the first years (sans himself, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and Draco Malfoy. He noted idly that the last of these looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, and kept giving Kakashi dirty looks.)

"That was brilliant!" Harry said happily, walking beside him and Ron with a skip in his step. "I can't believe I lived my whole life till now and I never knew about flying!"

"Brilliant, innit?" Ron agreed dreamily. "You just wait till we really get going; we were going really slow and stuff for now, 'cause they're supposed to teach from the beginning for all the Muggleborn kids. But it gets even better the faster you go."

"Really?" asked Harry, fascinated. "How fast can they go?"

"I'm not sure," the redhead said contemplatively. "I think the school brooms only go to about a hundred kilometers per hour, but Charlie- that's my older brother, he was Quidditch captain- used to say that he could max them out at a hundred and sixty in a dive."

"Wow; I'll bet he was really good!"

"Yep!" Ron laughed, and then shrugged. "You're pretty good yourself, for your first time on a broom. Everyone could see that you'd got the hang of it quicker than anyone else. You should definitely try out for the Gryffindor team next year. You too, Kakashi."

Kakashi said nothing, only looked at him mournfully.

"What is it?" Ron asked, unsettled. "Nothing even happened during practice, so there's no need to get yourself all riled up."

"Ah," Kakashi sighed. "That's just it, isn't it?"

Harry opened his eyes wide and his mouth made a little O; evidently he'd had some kind of epiphany. Kakashi wondered what insane theory his charge had invented this time.

However, the dark-haired boy only gave Kakashi a pitying glance and elbowed his friend. "Ron, Kakashi isn't going to be at Hogwarts next year, remember? He's a transfer student, so he's going to go back to the Konoha Academy in May."

"Oh..." Ron's voice trailed off, and then he nodded knowingly. "Right. Hey, Kakashi, what's your school like? If you don't play Quidditch- and wait, you don't even have Houses, do you?"

"What are you talking about?" Kakashi demanded irritably. "Of course we have houses, what did you think? It's not like we're desperately poor or something; Konoha-"

Then he paused.

"Oh, right. You meant Houses with a big H, didn't you?"

Ron nodded.

"Oh. Well, no, I don't suppose we do. We've got about the same number of students as you, but all the students are classed by their ability level and their focus of study, not their age."

"Huh?"

"Think of it like this: if this were Konoha, it would be perfectly normal for, say... Hermione Granger to be taking Advanced Ancient Runes in the same class as Cedric Diggory. It doesn't depend on your age and your experience so much as your talent and the classes you choose to focus on."

"That seems a little odd," Harry observed. "How would you decide who ought to be placed in which classes?"

"Oh, they hold regular exams." Kakashi waved off the objection. "Once or twice a year, you can apply to take the exams and move up to a higher level, so you have more privileges and more respect, but that's really the only benefit. You can choose to take whichever classes you like at whatever level, as long as the instructor thinks you're capable."

"Weird," said Ron, evidently impressed.

"Ha, don't even get me started on the dress code."

* * *

It was, Kakashi admitted reluctantly, rather nice to return to the castle and find a warm, rich, fatty dinner ready on the table. The fact that he could even admit it just went to show that the wizards' carefree attitudes were finally beginning to affect him. But Kakashi, spooning some warm shepherd's pie onto his ridiculous _gold-plated _dish, couldn't quite bring himself to care.

Beside him, his charge and the redhead were similarly enjoying themselves.

"If you try out for the Quidditch team, what position would you play?"

"Keeper," said Ron instantly. "The Keeper's like the backbone of the entire team. They have to be really tough and reliable, and hang in there when the Chasers start ganging up on them."

"That definitely sounds like something you'd be good at," agreed Harry.

"Yeah," said Ron, sounding slightly glum, "But there's no way I'd make the Keeper spot. Oliver Wood's the Captain of the Gryffindor team, and he's a brilliant Keeper- they say professional recruiters are keeping their eyes on him. Anyway, he's only in fifth year, so I don't have a chance until fourth year. There's no way he'd leave early; he's in love with the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Fred and George are always complaining."

"Fred and George?" Harry asked curiously. "Aren't those your twin brothers?"

"Yep. They're on the team too; they're both Beaters. They're not as good as Charlie, but he was a genius at flying. Anyway, they're both pretty good fliers, but what's really tricky is how they can work together so well. You need your Beaters to be compatible, or it's no good, see."

"Why not Chaser, then, or Seeker?"

Ron laughed. "I'm not cut out for Seeker," he said decidedly. "Too lanky. Seekers have got to be compact, and really agile-"

"-whereas you, Weasley, are so slow you're almost as bad as Longbottom," interrupted a drawling Malfoy, approaching the Gryffindor table with his two thugs. "I would expect anyone from a _proper_ wizarding family to be more skilled."

"Malfoy," spat Ron. "Couldn't you sit quietly and eat, instead of inflicting your personality on everyone else?"

Kakashi almost snorted, and took a bite of potatoes as Malfoy sidled up to the other first years.

(On the other side of the table, Hermione Granger hissed in irritation as the Slytherin's robe sleeve just _barely_ blocked Kakashi's face from her view. When he moved and the view was unobstructed once more, there was absolutely no sign that the mask had been moved, and the spoonful of potatoes was gone.)

Malfoy sneered at the group and Kakashi fought the urge to roll his eyes. The blond boy's attempt at intimidation was about as frightening as a wet kitten.

Harry glared fiercely back at the Slytherin, green eyes bright with anger and dislike.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" he demanded.

Malfoy smirked, and said in a voice that was probably intended to sound menacing (but came out as just... squeaky), "I have a challenge to make."

Then he stood straight, chin lifted arrogantly, and gave the two a supercilious glance.

Then he turned his head to stare down the other member of the group.

And said, clearly: "I challenge Kakashi Hatake to a wizard's duel."

* * *

**And thus, Malfoy's IQ is thrown into serious question. How will Kakashi respond? Find out in the next installment of _Masks and Redemption_. Coming soon(ish) to a website near you!  
**

**... review?**


	11. In Which: Friendship is Enforced

**Chapter 11! Ha, I told you I was starting this story again for real!**

**This chapter is dedicated to **_Lunatic Pandora1_**, my very first reviewer for the last chapter. Also**_**,** LaRire_ **was my 150th reviewer and has made her request (which will hopefully appear in the next few chapters).**

**Just a reminder about the prizes: every 50th reviewer gets to make a request for the story. That means 200th, 250th, 300th, and so on. I'll do my best to keep track, but if you know you should have won a request, send me a PM. (And pretty please sign in to your FFN account first. I can't contact you from an anon signature.)**

**Thanks for all the encouragement, and here is your chapter!**

* * *

"_Draco Malfoy_ challenged _you_ to a _wizard's duel_?"

Kakashi nodded glumly. "There wasn't much I could do about it, Dumbledore-sama. I told him I wasn't interested, and that I didn't care about staining my honor or whatever, and then I told him that I could beat him into a pulp with my little finger, and he just wouldn't give up."

"You said _what_ to him?"

"It's true, of course, but I'd rather not have him know that," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Anyway, I know my mission is to protect the school and the students, but that's going to be a little tricky if the students themselves are busy throwing themselves at me. It's rather distracting, and certainly not pertinent to the mission."

The Headmaster simply gazed at the white-haired student in dismay. To a normal observer, the only detectable change in his demeanor would be a momentary fading of the omniscient twinkle in his eyes. (Kakashi almost admired the man's self-control- then he kicked himself. A proper shinobi wouldn't be surprised at all.)

"Have you tried simply refusing?"

"Of course-"

"Of course, you told him you preferred not to. But if you simply did not fight, regardless of his demands..."

"Then he would jinx me when my back was turned," Kakashi said promptly. "Or take one of my possessions as bait. Or take one of my charges- or perhaps a classmate, Longbottom or Granger- as a hostage."

"I do not think-"

"I don't know if you've noticed, Headmaster," the white-haired student said with a helpless shrug, "But Malfoy is a sly, conniving little fox with a lamentable sense of ethics and a sense of accountability that borders on nonexistent."

"He is only eleven."

_I'm eleven,_ Kakashi almost snapped. He bit back the retort, though: that wasn't the same, and he knew it.

Konoha was so far removed from Magical Britain that it was incomparable. In Konoha, eleven was a perfectly reasonable age to judge an individuals tendencies, character, personality, motivations, and preferred modus operandi, and from that basis determine him or her a threat or non-threat. Heck, eleven was probably the _optimum_ age. If you could tell who was trustworthy at eleven, who would betray you and who would desert in a battle, and who really, really needed to get out of that line of work and into a mental hospital (or a prison) like, now.

Better at eleven than at eighteen. At eleven, you could probably overpower them before they were a danger. At eighteen, they would snap and go mental, massacring entire clans in a single night and leaving only the smallest child alive to go raving mad in their parents' spilled blood.. Actually, the earlier you caught them, the better. Kakashi could think of some people who were skilled enough to do it at thirteen.

But- as much as he hated to admit it- that wasn't Malfoy.

True, the blond kid was sly and conniving. He'd probably been raised in the lap of luxury by loving parents- in a family of rich elitist politicians that got its power from suppressing the weak and depriving the underprivileged of their rights. Malfoy would have grown up being told that he was the epitome of everything a wizard should be, that he was good and righteous to protect his family's honor, that the whole world was his enemy, trying to attack him to get at the people he loved. And he'd believed them.

And it _wasn't Malfoy's fault_.

For God's sake, it wasn't even remotely a secret that Malfoy's parents were rich crime lord politicians. _Everyone _knew. _Harry Potter _knew, and he'd been in the wizarding world for scarcely a month and a half. They didn't make _any_ effort whatsoever to conceal their bribery. But that didn't matter, because they were his parents and he loved them and they couldn't be wrong, ever.

To be told from a young age that you were inherently better than the rest of the world, that your blood gave you the right to rule. To be told that it was okay to take advantage of others. To be given the resources and power to accomplish all of your dreams, and to be told that you could have all you desired as long as you lived. When your _parents_, the ones you trusted and loved and adored, told you that it was not only okay but _right_ and _good_ to hurt other people to take what you deserved. Because they were wrong and they threatened the family, the ones who were important beyond all else.

Because your first loyalty would always, always be to your family, the miseries of others just didn't matter.

It would take an _immense_ spirit to have all that- to have it and be so incredibly happy and successful- and to realize _of your own accord_ that it was wrong. You didn't just wake up one day and realize. You couldn't. Not one person in ten thousand could take his own life and _restructure_ an entire ethical belief system out of empathy so extensive that you would seriously consider the well-being of those you'd believed worthless.

So Malfoy wasn't especially wrong. It was _natural_ that he acted the way he did, even _expected_, when you thought of the circumstances. He wasn't inherently bad. He was normal.

Just one in ten thousand could see, and understand, and care that it was wrong, without prompting.

Someone like Obito.

Kakashi sighed in melancholy tones. "What would you have me do, Headmaster?"

"Hm. In an ideal world, I would ask you to befriend him and reconcile him with Harry Potter and his friends, and perhaps allow him to recognize the harmfulness of his faith in blood purity, so that he may quell his anger and align himself with the Light, perhaps swaying his mother and father also to change their allegiance and repent of their sins, restore the Slytherin house to its former greatness, and bring peace and prosperity to the wizarding world."

Kakashi gave him a flat look.

Dumbledore paused. "I don't suppose..."

"I'm a ninja."

"I've been told that you are rather versatile..."

"I _kill_ people for a living, Professor."

"Perhaps if you gave it a try?"

Kakashi took a deep breath and met the Headmaster's eyes directly. "Professor, I am _an assassin_ and on occasion_ a bodyguard_. I am not an infiltration agent and I do not specialize in manipulation. I am the _least qualified person _to share the spirit of tolerance, pacifism, and friendship with _anyone_ that I have _ever _ been acquainted with."

"I see."

_Obito would have done it. Rin would do it, probably. Sensei would have done it already by this point; people love him the instant they meet him. Kushina-san would have punched the brat five minutes after meeting him, and terrified him into submission after ten minutes. _

What would Kakashi do?

_Deal with the disturbance in a tactically effective way that doesn't draw much attention. _

But that answer, which popped up so readily in response to his question, didn't feel quite right to him.

"Then," said Professor Dumbledore with a sad twinkle in his eyes, "I will leave it up to you to do as you see fit."

As Kakashi bowed and left the room, he was trying his best to entertain a thought that defied entertainment. It was a struggle and a novel challenge, so we must excuse our perfectly emotionless shinobi if his eyebrows creased a little as he thought, or if he chewed ponderously on his lower lip as he contemplated. Who can avoid showing a little emotion during these taxing times?

Of course, he didn't. This is all hypothetical, after all.

* * *

It was 11:30pm, and four small silhouettes were lurking in the shadows of the Gryffindor common room in silence. The fire had nearly died out and all that was left was a heap of red glowing embers. The torches on the stone walls flickered lowly, casting eerie shadows across the room. There was a little warmth from the fire, but not enough to take the edge off of the late autumn night chill.

One of the figures stood. "Right, I'm off. Wish me luck, fellows!"

Two of the other figures stood simultaneously with cries of protest. "Hey, what about us?!" one cried indignantly, emerald green eyes flashing.

"Yeah!" said the other of the pair. "C'mon mate, you can't go it alone! What if he ambushes you? You need me and Harry to watch your back!"

"Look, Ron," Kakashi said with a sigh. "I'm not saying I don't appreciate the offer, because I do. But Filch and Mrs Norris might be wandering around, and I think we're a lot likelier to get caught if we're traipsing around in a troop of three."

"That's all fine and good," came a frigid female voice from the squashiest red armchair, "But how do you know that _you're _not going to get caught? If you get points taken away from Gryffindor House for fighting, or going out after hours, or- or..."

"Not happening," said Kakashi calmly.

"How can you _possibly _know that?" Hermione demanded.

"A few reasons," the white-haired student said with a shrug. "Firstly; cats don't like me. Actually, I think it's more of a hate thing. So even if Mrs. Norris picks up my scent, she won't lead Filch there. Secondly; do you have any idea how _huge_ this castle is? Filch is one person. I'm one person. The chances of our paths coinciding are like the chances of two ping-pong balls colliding if you chuck them from opposite ends of the Great Hall. And thirdly-"

"Yes?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed already, this castle is kind of _designed _ to encourage intelligent rule-breaking."

_"What?_" Hermione protested. "It is _not_-!"

"Oh, please." Kakashi rolled his one visible eye. "The Common Room portrait doesn't even alert the caretaker when a student leaves after hours. Even if it did, there are about a dozen different ways of getting out of here covertly, and I can guarantee you that the Headmaster knows about all of them. Besides that, how easy would it be to place wards around the place? They probably have already.

"Or if they really, truly wanted kids to stay put at night? They could just ask Sir Nicholas to keep an eye out. Or better yet, have the Bloody Baron keep track of the Gryffindors and Sir Nicholas keep track of the Slytherins. Or for heaven's sake, why wouldn't they just tell the House Elves to send a message to the caretaker whenever a student decides to take a moonlight stroll? Even if the portraits and the ghosts could let things slide or be a security risk, a House Elf sentry would be completely risk-free and infallible."

Hermione was, apparently, speechless.

"And also," Kakashi added helpfully, "According to my observations, Filch likes to take a six-hour nap on an alternating schedule every other day. The chances that he's going to be sleeping for the next three and a half hours are 5:1."

There was a pause.

Then two people piped up at once.

"So we should go, too!" agreed Ron triumphantly, "Since the chances are so low in any case, you'll probably be safer with three of us."

"That's not a proper argument," Hermione said, folding her arms. "Even if the chances are low, they're higher than they would be if you stayed put in the Common Room tonight. And besides that, there's no tangible benefit to going out and looking for trouble. Even if Malfoy wants to duel you, what do you get out of it if you agree? That's not winning, that's giving in."

Kakashi wished fervently that he was having these two discussions_ separately._

"Look, I see where you're coming from," he said apologetically, "But it's getting late."

The clock on the mantle was ticking slowly, and the minute hand just brushed 11:37.

* * *

By the time the two of them left, it was 11:48 pm.

The other two- the ones back in the common room- had insisted and demanded and pleaded, but Kakashi had held firm. In the end, he had simply given a resolute _no_ and threatened to cast a Continuous Tickling Hex on them and tell the teachers if they persisted. They had threatened and bargained and argued and muttered vicious indictments under their collective breaths, all to no avail. In the end, they had remained resentfully sedentary.

And thus, Harry and Ron remained in the Common Room as Kakashi and Hermione journeyed to meet Malfoy for the duel.

"I still don't know _why_ I'm doing this," the bushy-haired girl muttered under her breath. "You're insane."

"Oh, that's easy," Kakashi replied, turning a corner with confidence. "You're coming with me because there is absolutely no way in hell that I'm letting Harry come with me to a potentially dangerous situation without proper supervision and a teacher. "

Hermione gaped at him. "_What?"_

Kakashi looked at her blankly. "I thought you were all for teacher supervision, but now you're offended?"

"No- not that," she clarified. "Why do you suddenly care about supervision and rules and all that? And why just Harry, not Ron?"

"I'm always in favor of obeying regulations," Kakashi said with a wounded expression. "Alas, for you to have misjudged me so harshly-"

"You say that as you walk to an illegal duel after hours," she pointed out.

He considered that. "True," he acknowledged. "But then, I know that I'm hardly likely to get caught, nor will I inconvenience anyone or cause any damage by participating in this match."

"Putting aside the matter of how you could _possibly _be so sure of that," Hermione said dryly, "Why is it okay for you to break rules and not Harry and Ron? If you're not going to cause any damage or be in any danger, why on earth would they? Harry and Ron aren't even participating in the duel, and yet you think that they could cause more havoc than both you and I could, entirely unintentionally?"

"I'm not worried about them _causing_ havoc," Kakashi corrected, "Although I'm sure they could manage quite a bit, given time. I'm more concerned about them- or Harry, really- being in any situation were 'havoc' is a large factor. I grant you that classes at Hogwarts are _ridiculously_ dangerous by their very nature, but at least the teachers are generally able to prevent any lasting injuries. And because we're going to travel to a location determined by our self-proclaimed enemy Draco Malfoy, of all people, where we are likely going to engage in predetermined battle with said self-proclaimed enemy, at _midnight_, without the knowledge or consent or supervision of any authority figure whatsoever, well... You can put together the pieces yourself."

"So it's dangerous. _We already knew that,_ Kakashi. So why are we _doing it_?"

"_I _am doing it because I hope that my actions will eliminate a large annoyance factor from my life. _You _are doing it because otherwise _Harry and Ron_ would insist on coming with me for my own protection; which is, of course, patently ridiculous."

"And it's okay for me to come... why?"

"Two reasons," Kakashi said cheerfully. "Firstly, because my observations support my hypothesis that you have a significantly smaller inherent danger attractant factor than the other two. Secondly, because Harry and Ron naturally classify you in a group of 'others' and therefore are less likely to demand equal treatment, i.e., the right to accompany me, when they see that you have been permitted to come. If I let Ron come, there would be no dissuading Harry; and vice versa. And I really do not want to bring them along on this adventure."

"Why?"

He gave Hermione an odd look. "Because they would be in danger."

"But not me?"

"Well, obviously, but in significantly less danger than Harry."

"_Why?_" she asked, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Could you please just get to the point?"

"Um," Kakashi said, comprehension finally dawning on him. "Sorry, you do know that Harry's kind of famous, right?"

"Sure. Harry Potter was the only person alive to survive the Killing Curse, and defeated the then-reigning Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I read all about it in _Modern Magical History_ and _Great __Wi__zarding Events of the Twentieth Century _and _The __Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_, and there was a footnote about him in _Everything You've Ever Wanted to Know About Being A Hero, And Then Some._"

"Oh, I get it." Kakashi let out a sigh. "Look, I don't know if you've noticed, but you're talking about him as 'Harry Potter', past tense. Not as _Harry_, your classmate, who _is_ the only person alive to have survived the Killing Curse, who _is _a hero in the eyes of the wizarding world. The same _Harry Potter_ that you've read about in your books is _Harry _who sleeps barely ten meters away from you, on the other side of your dorm wall."

"I... guess," she said uncertainly. "But what's that got to do with...?"

"Harry's really important. And if you've read _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, _you know that there are people who supported Voldemort-" He ignored Hermione's startled blink at the name. "-who are still around today. And even though they'd never _dare_ say so openly, they're probably not too pleased with the kid who destroyed their master's reign of power. And among those individuals are-"

"-the _Malfoy family_," Hermione said with a gasp. "Oh, I can't believe I never _reali__zed_-"

"I shouldn't have expected you to," Kakashi said with a shrug. "Harry's a pretty average, unassuming guy most of the time. The only things exceptional about him are his scar and his reputation. It be hard to reconcile those observations with some of the ridiculous stuff people say about him in books. Besides, you've never had to worry about that sort of thing before: getting in fights that are intended to hurt someone."

"Of course not. That's ridiculous!"

"I'm used to it. Dueling is a pretty big thing at my school, and sometimes fights get... nasty." Kakashi raised a hand to his covered eye, hoping that his motion looked involuntary to the wide-eyed Hermione.

Ha. Lying was kind of fun, sometimes.

"So what do you plan to do? Are you really going to fight Draco?"

"Oh, no," Kakashi said innocently. "Wherever did you get that idea?"

"Then _what_ are you going to do?" she demanded in exasperation.

"Isn't it obvious? We're going to share the Spirit of Love and Friendship with Draco Malfoy."

* * *

"Finally decided to show, Hatake?" sneered the pale boy.

Malfoy stood in the center of the trophy room, flanked by his two enormous bodyguards. It made a very imposing picture, and looked very much as though it had all been arranged beforehand. Kakashi wondered how long Malfoy had been standing there in that precise position, waiting for him to arrive. He couldn't _imagine_ that they'd been doing it the entire time; how _stupid_ would it have looked if Filch had just happened to meander by and they'd all three been standing smack-dab in the middle of the room with tough, squinty expressions on their eleven-year-old faces?

Kakashi shrugged. "Yep, sorry I'm late. We got lost on the road of life; you know how it is."

"We?" Draco's gaze swiveled. When he caught sight of Hermione (who was folding her arms disapprovingly by Kakashi's side) he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Oh, brought your pet mudblood as a cheer squad, have you?"

"Why, yes," quipped Kakashi, "Though I notice you brought two."

"As if," spat the Slytherin boy. "Crabbe and Goyle are purebloods. They're worth twenty of whatever little Muggle spawn you could find."

"As I happen to appreciate Miss Granger, I'll thank you to stop insulting her."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "I suppose you're one of those Muggle-loving fools as well."

"Well," said Kakashi mildly, "The official position of the Ministry of Magic is that all students are entitled to the same treatment and privileges regardless of their anscestry, wealth, or social status."

"Nobody actually believes that slop," the other boy said dismissively. "It's all rubbish, to sate the nuisances in the Department of Magical Rights and Responsibilities."

"There are also several subclauses that apply directly to people like you and Messrs. Crabbe and Goyle," Kakashi informed him. "Namely: 4a.) 'Additionally, discrimination on the basis of physical appearance or perceived attractiveness is illegal in any form. Truly horrific visages (see Ethel Snideberry, Dragonpox strain B-23) that induce copious vomiting when viewed (or other responses which disrupt instruction) may require some form of visual obstruction (bag over head, etc.) to maintain educational order.' Only think how much your life and the lives of those around you are improved by our adherence to these regulations!"

Malfoy snarled at him. "I'll crush you!"

"About that," he said brightly. "I think that we're going about this entirely the wrong way."

"What in the name of Merlin's moxy are you talking about?!"

"I think we've got off on the wrong foot. Maybe if we have a friendly discussion or talk about our feelings, we can overcome this petty grudge- which is by its very nature debilitating and counterproductive. What do you say?"

"Hell no!" Malfoy hissed at him through gritted teeth.

And then:

"_Rictusempra_!" shouted Malfoy (Kakashi winced at the volume; _anyone_ could have heard that), and a thin stream of silver light shot towards Kakashi.

It was laughably slow, of course. The stronger a wizard was, the faster and brighter their spells were. A master duelist's spells were barely visible to a wizarding eye, and Kakashi had seen- or _not_ seen- the speed of Flitwick's spells for summoning books and writing on the board. (Probably wasn't even his full power, which was terrifying.) Malfoy's spell was barely shining, and headed Kakashi's direction at about the speed of a thrown eraser.

Still, it _was_ impressive that Malfoy already knew the Tickling Charm- so Kakashi let it hit him just for the fun of it.

There was a mild impact as the spell hit his chest, like being punched by a little kid, and then Kakashi was entirely enveloped in a mild tickling sensation. Which was _annoying_, but not debilitating.

There was silence.

Evidently, everyone was waiting for the spell to take effect, and for Kakashi to double over in uncontrollable laughter. Which was _so_ not happening, ever.

"Sorry, folks," said the shinobi with a shrug. "I'm not all that ticklish."

"That's _impossible_," Hermione burst out, gaining sidelong looks from Malfoy and Co. "The nature of the Tickling Charm is to impose a feeling of being tickled, _regardless_ of whether or not the individual who is subjected to it is ticklish. You _must_ be experiencing a tickling feeling exactly as strong as I would have if I were hit by that exact same spell! That's how it works!"

"I guess I'm just an exception, then," he mused. Then he turned to the three on the other side of the room.

They all grew a little paler. The tension and anxiety in the air was so tangible you could almost taste it when you breathed in. The all waited in utter silence for his next words, and a feeling of inexorable power rolled across the room with crushing force. They felt as though they were being flattened by the sheer pressure of their anticipation, and the darkness at the edges of the room grew darker and more threatening, a miasma that pulled at them whenever they turned away, as they stood fixated on this huge and terrible presence that surrounded them.

Kakashi grinned.

"If you won't embrace the spirit of love and friendship," he said happily, "I'll just have to enforce it."

* * *

**Y'know, I thought more people would be surprised that Malfoy actually showed up for the duel this time. I mean, I thought it would be a big plot twist (Malfoy comes to the duel after all! OMG!) but all my reviews from last chapter were like, "Oh, cool, can't wait to see Kakashi beat him up!" Guess I'm just that predictable.**

**Review! Please, I mean.**

**-Crys**


	12. In Which: Kakashi Gains a Minion

**This chapter is dedicated to AP and IB exams. May they die early and never prosper \V/.  
**

* * *

"Whatcha mean, en-force?" mumbled Crabbe, squinting even more. "You're a shrimp."

"I'm still at least ten centimeters taller than the guy you work for," Kakashi pointed out. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I really should be getting around to beating him into submission. We'll have to continue our conversation later."

"Hey," Crabbe protested.

Kakashi wasn't listening.

He _moved_.

Malfoy wasn't completely stupid, apparently. At the very least, he'd learned his lesson from the last time Kakashi had thoroughly shamed him in front of his classmates. Back then, his primary tactic had consisted of shouting orders to his goons- like_ they'd_ have a chance of beating a trained shinobi. Yeah, right. And he hadn't even tried to _dodge_ when Kakashi approached, let alone _turn around_ so that Kakashi couldn't get him from behind. But this time, Malfoy didn't underestimate him.

The instant he saw Kakashi shift his body weight, he'd whipped out his wand.

An _intelligent_ response, at last.

Kakashi deliberately slowed his pace (Hermione was watching, after all) as Malfoy raised the wand high over his head. With a terrible expression on his pinched, pale face, the eleven-year-old Slytherin prepared to cast a spell that was probably harder and more dangerous than any spells that a first year was _supposed_ to know. It was to be expected, those underage magic laws wouldn't matter in the slightest to a family like the Malfoys- but still.

Malfoy tensed to bring the wand down with a crushing force, inhaled sharply to begin what was probably a very long, archaic incantation of great and terrible origins. His cheeks were slightly flushed from the effort of marshaling the full force of his magical reserves at once. There was an angry, triumphant glint in his pale, icy blue eyes, and there grew from the silence of the empty trophy room a distant roar that grew in intensity and pressure, until-

There was a sharp _thwack_ing sound, like someone squishing a spider with a rolled-up newspaper.

Malfoy toppled over, landing flat on his face before three pairs of astonished eyes.

Kakashi Hatake stood over him.

"Well, definitely points for presentation," The masked student acknowledged critically, "But I'd say your sense of strategy is somewhat lacking. There is a time and a place for huge, flashy techniques that need more than thirty seconds of preparation, and this was _not_ one of them. Like, as a last resort. Or maybe if your opponent is really, really dimwitted and you can trick them into talking about their tragic past while you casually set up your incredibly impressive instant-knock-out jutsu, and then blast them just as they get to the part where no one will ever understand them and that you should really give up and die. Which, incidentally, is not an appropriate response to a tragic backstory, ever. Oh, and back to what I was saying before-"

* * *

Kakashi lectured the unconscious Malfoy for almost an hour.

Well, to call Malfoy _unconscious_ was actually a bit misleading. He'd woken up about five minutes into Kakashi's lecture, moaning in discomfort. Then he'd actually started listening to what Kakashi was saying, and became... uncooperative. That hadn't lasted long; there had been another _thwack_ as Kakashi gently swatted Malfoy across the back of the head, and Malfoy had been sent into fits of exaggerated squealing.

And then he started moaning again, and the whole cycle had begun again. And again. And again.

Kakashi was fairly sure that Obito would have approved.

* * *

"What a sissy," mused Kakashi absently. "Hey, Rin: If I ever agree to become a teacher, you should put me on meds- I've finally snapped."

"Ron's not here," Hermione said coolly. "If you recall?"

Kakashi looked up, startled. "Of course he isn't. What does that have to do with anything?"

"You just called me Ron."

"Did not."

"I heard you." Hermione huffed and turned away. "Whatever. I'm out of this _insane_, misguided quest the very instant can get back to the common room."

"Nice of you to be so candid."

"I don't know what you want with Malfoy, and I don't know why you're doing this, but I want no part of it."

"I'm teaching him out of the goodness of my heart. Do you want lessons, too?" He gave her a serious look.

"I think you're absolutely out of your mind, and you're so sadistic it's sickening."

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "You flatter me."

* * *

As a matter of fact, Kakashi was not doing this for his own enjoyment.

Sure, there were sadistic shinobi. Boatloads of 'em. Some of them were even pretty cool guys (and girls) until you were looking at them from the other side of the torture equipment (he'd _hated_ the torture desensitization classes for ANBU). All told, it wasn't a bad trait to have when you were marketing yourself as an unfailingly ruthless murderer. Just another short note added to your psych chart, sometimes not even that.

What he was doing now? It wasn't even _punishment_. It was _teaching_, for heaven's sake.

He really was doing Malfoy a favor. The kid wasn't a complete moron, but he needed to wise up and stop making himself into a target for every halfway volatile individual under the sun. If he wouldn't do that, then he _really_ needed Kakashi's dueling advice. Hey, if it made him less of a threat to Kakashi's charge, all the better, right?

After six or seven _thwacks_, Malfoy stopped spitting insults at Kakashi whenever he could muster the breath. Instead, he donned a scowl so fierce that it'd have put Uchiha Fugaku to shame.

Kakashi chose to view this as an improvement.

"So," he said, attempting a friendly tone. "Ready to hear me out?"

Malfoy looked away, and Kakashi felt a tinge of annoyance. Ignoring people was _his _signature.

"Well, if you're not..." he trailed off ominously. "I suppose we could always go back to the basics."

The Slytherin boy glanced up briefly to meet his gaze, shivered, and scowled more. "...fine," he muttered at last, followed by what was probably another insult, judging by Hermione's horrified yelp.

"Good!" Kakashi patted him on the head (with maybe just a _tad_ more force than necessary). "So, I have a deal for you."

"Okay."

"Option one: You keep causing trouble for my friends and me- by friends, I mean anyone who would self-identify as my ally in a time of need, incidentally- and I will be forced to take you as my enemy. Under these circumstances, I would probably be forced to find a fifth year who could seriously debilitate you with an appropriate jinx and keep you in the hospital wing for weeks on end."

Malfoy swallowed uncomfortably and Hermione let out a muffled sound of indignation.

"Naturally, this option is the least favorable to me as well, since it involves far too much effort and potential consequences for my peace of mind," Kakashi acknowledged. "Or you could choose Option two: You disappear, keep your head down, don't mess with me or my friends, and avoid being in the same room as me for the next eight months, and I won't go out of my way to hunt you down and beat you into a pulp."

He waited to see if Malfoy would respond, but no such luck.

"Lastly, you could choose Option Three: You get to be my _kobun_ for the next eight months, and in exchange, I'll let you earn your forgiveness."

Kakashi waited.

At last, Draco spoke in a voice hoarse from shouting insults. "What the hell is a _kobun_?"

"How to translate it?" Kakashi pondered the question seriously for a few moments. "Well, I suppose the best translation would be something along the lines of..." He trailed off.

"Of what?"

Hermione was not going to like this, Kakashi decided. "Um, perhaps 'minion'?"

"_WHAT!?"_

* * *

Malfoy had taken a good deal of convincing.

Kakashi had expected that.

He had _not_ expected Hermione to burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggling. Perhaps she was a Gryffindor after all.

* * *

When Kakashi and Hermione returned to the Common Room at last, it was almost 4:38 in the morning. Hermione seemed almost delirious; Kakashi got the feeling that she wasn't very used to staying up so late. He was fine, of course, but for the sake of his cover he faked a little stumbling as they turned corners and a few poorly-concealed yawns. Nothing too undignified.

Harry and Ron had fallen asleep, slumped in armchairs. Apparently they'd been waiting for his triumphant return. Kakashi ignored them and began to climb the stairs to the Gryffindor Boy's Dorm- it wasn't like Harry would be in any danger from sleeping in a chair; and if his charge woke up sore in the morning from not walking up a single flight of stairs to get to his bed thanks to his damn overactive curiosity- well, that wasn't any of Kakashi's affair.

But as Kakashi neatly removed his sandals (flopping into bed was unbecoming of a shinobi), and changed out of his school robes into a long-sleeved black shirt and black pants (the uniform was _absolutely_ a strangulation hazard), and left his headband on (damn curious dorm-mates), he couldn't help but feel incredibly unsettled at the entire situation. Something had been bothering him all day, and all the day before. It was frustrating, because he couldn't pin it down, but he knew why he felt it.

He was acting differently.

It was one thing to get used to wizarding culture over time, to stop doing so much exercising, to stop being on guard all the time. That wasn't good, but it wasn't unexpected, and it just meant that he had to be a little more cautious.

_Why_ had he gone to duel Malfoy?

He shouldn't have. That was no part of his mission, even Dumbledore had acknowledged it.

So why the _hell-?_

He'd forgotten, that was why. He'd forgotten that he wasn't some naive little magical kid, that he was an _adult_ with _responsibilities_ to his village. He'd forgotten that there was a war on, and that back in his homeland people were fighting and dying- Minato-sensei and Rin and Kushina-san. He'd let this damned enchanted castle with its damned secret passageways and ridiculous classes were he learned to float a _damned_ feather- no, where he _pretended_ to learn to float feathers- he'd let it all lull him into thinking that he really was Kakashi, the quirky transfer student.

He'd forgotten his training: never let your guard down. Never commit to action without considering your motivations. Never commit to action without considering the consequences. Never commit to action if the risks outweigh the benefits. Never forget your mission. Never show your emotion. Never become emotionally involved with the mission. Never forget your loyalties. Never act on emotion. Never act without authorization from the mission leader or the client unless designated in the parameters of your mission terms. Never expend energy on trivialities. Never commit to action unless that action is an important factor in mission completion. Never give your trust to an outsider. Never lose sight of the whole situation. Never put your own interests before the mission. Never disobey the terms of your mission.

He'd broken all of the rules he could think of.

And the one rule that wasn't in any of the handbooks, but was seared into the heart of every Konoha shinobi:

_Never forget your comrades._

He'd forgotten them. No; worse. He'd forsaken them. They were fighting for his village. They believed, even this very instant, that he was fighting with them with every fiber of his being. They believed that even thought they were miles away, Kakashi would still hold them in his heart and do _whatever_ was necessary to help their village. And he wasn't. They were walking bravely to what might be their deaths, believing that he was at their backs, but he wasn't. He'd betrayed everything his village stood for.

Kakashi sat up in bed, feeling cold and dead inside despite the heavy blankets.

_No more, _he thought desperately. _No more of this. I'm living a goddamn lie and I'm believing it. No more._

He stepped out of the warm comfort of his bed, unflinching in the chill of the late autumn air.

Steadily, precisely- not rushed, but controlled- he opened the drawer of his bedside table. Although that drawer was old and tended to be squeaky, it opened as though made of silk. From the very bottom, he retrieved a black cloth bundle that was noticeably heavier than one would expect cloth to be. A glance around the room determined that Thomas, Finnigan, and Longbottom were completely asleep.

A soft breeze fluttered the curtains through an open window.

Silently, swiftly, the shinobi hopped to crouch on the windowsill, the bundle under one arm. Then, without a single glance backwards into the hushed dorm room, he stole away into the night.

* * *

**Sorry it's been so long, folks. I was out of country for the summer, and the place I was staying had really bad Internet. I've had this chapter written for like _forever_ but I just never got the chance to post it. I'll be working on the next chapter for maybe a couple of weeks, but it won't be nearly as long a wait.  
**

**Cheers!**

**-Crys**


	13. In Which: Rumours Spread Anew

**And here goes! This is probably my last chapter to be released before the start of the school year, and, as always, things will get a lot busier for me after August 19th.**

**This chapter is dedicated to**_ Blinded in a bolthole**,** _**the epic and awesome reviewer ****who went through all my earliest chapters fact-checking, and who unfailingly caught each and every mistake. Kudos to you!**

* * *

Hermione had always thought of herself as _that_ kind of girl.

Cool, calm, confident, mature, obedient, studious, talented, and respected. The sort of girl that got approving nods from teachers like Professor McGonagall and half-envious half-awed glances from the other students in class. The sort of girl who helped others out when they were struggling in class, helping them just enough that they could figure it out by themselves. The sort of girl who was quick and clever enough to look out for the other children, the sort of girl who teachers trusted to be responsible and grown-up.

The problem was...

Well, she was getting plenty of approving nods and smiles from the teachers, and she was at the very head of all of her classes. She knew her parents would be proud of her even if they didn't really understand the whole 'magic' thing very well. She was helping Neville Longbottom in every class except for Broomstick Riding, and everyone knew that was like Gym Class: it didn't really count.

But everyone aside from Neville, well, they _were_ glancing at her with every point she earned for Gryffindor.

Every time she answered a question right, she could feel their eyes on her back.

Their whispers.

Their snickers.

Their _dislike _and _disdain _and _rejection_, like a soft poison in their words and gestures.

She told herself that she didn't mind. She'd _read_ all of Mum and Dad's child psychology books, she knew that in a situation like this they would reassure her that other people's actions and words reflected on _them_, and that _she _hadn't done anything wrong, and that she should just go on being herself, that they would get used to her in time and she _knew _it, she _knew _ what they would say, and it didn't make her feel any better at all.

She had tried to distract herself by reading _Beauxbatons, A History_ in her dorm.

It had worked for almost a whole hour.

Then Lavender had come in, and Hermione had smiled at her instead of saying hello, because she didn't trust her voice to be steady.

Lavender half-smiled, but there wasn't any warmth in it.

"Hey, Hermione," she said, and laughed.

Hermione didn't get the joke.

Parvati, the Indian girl who had become Lavender's fast friend in the last few months, looked up from her copy of _Witch Weekly_ where she lounged on her bed. "Lav, you shouldn't laugh."

"Sorry," said Lavender, and laughed again.

"Come _on_, Lav." Parvati waved her copy of _Witch Weekly_ at the blonde girl. "Look, there's a Nail-Painting Charm. We can do Gryffindor colors!"

Lavender made as if to go sit by Parvati, but she paused and glanced back at Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione," she began, and then paused.

Heart pounding, hopes rising despite her best efforts, Hermione smiled with polite curiosity. "Yes?"

"I was wondering- like, why haven't you fixed your hair?"

"Excuse me?" asked Hermione, heart frozen, her polite smile fixed to her face.

"_Lavender_," moaned Parvati with a long-suffering expression. "You don't have _any _tact at _all_, do you? You're worse than my sister."

"Merlin, I was just _asking_. It's not like I'm asking in Charms or in the Great Hall or whatever."

"Well _obviously_ if she'd wanted to, you know, clean up a little she'd have done it before now."

Hermione felt the cold in the pit of her stomach spread.

"I _know." _Lavender groaned. "I just can't _stand _it. She's hanging onto the Boy-Who-Lived all the time, and that Weasley, _and_ Hatake. And I use _six hair charms_ every morning and _none_ of them have even _noticed_. At this rate the only boys left in our year will be Thomas and Finnigan."

"Mm. Finnigan isn't bad-looking, you know. And there's Longbottom, too." Pavarti laughed, a little unkindly.

"_Him_? I'd rather date a Hufflepuff."

"_I'd_ rather date the giant squid."

"Or Hagrid!"

"Or the Defense Professor!"

And they both flew into peals of laughter as Hermione quietly turned and fled the dormitory.

As she stumbled down the stairs with a heavy, leather-bound tome in her arms, no one saw the tears streaming down her face. And Hermione Granger, the most talented and clever witch of her generation, went to find a quiet place to cry.

* * *

Kakashi had always thought of himself as _that_ sort of shinobi.

Cool, calm, confident, mature, obedient, studious, talented, respected, et cetera, et cetera. The sort of shinobi who made chunin at six and jounin at twelve and went on to basically just kick ass on every mission, even when it should have been impossible.

Obito's death had pretty much shattered _that_ delusion.

Kakashi stared down into his bowl of soggy cereal, deep in thought-

"_Kakashi!_" came the shout.

With a sigh, the white-haired student put away his introspection for a later date. An instant after the cry, there were pattering footsteps, and then two eager, rumpled, curious bundles of dark fabric and excitement planted themselves firmly on the opposite side of the breakfast table in the Great Hall, facing him.

"Good morning, Ron," he said politely. "Hello, Harry."

"_What happened_?"

It was unclear who had spoken, or if both had, or if either of them actually _thought_ that a _stage whisper_ was the best way to carry out a secret conversation (seriously, Kakashi was willing to bet that at least half of the Gryffindor table and some of the staff were listening in on their discussion by now), but the general idea of the demand was clear. Both the boys' faces were twisted with agonized curiosity, giving them a marked appearance of indigestion.

Kakashi savored his last bite of cereal, chewing _very_ slowly.

And then he paused, took a breath, and opened his mouth-

-and scooped up another spoonful of corn flakes.

He kept his only visible eye focused toward his breakfast bowl, expression inscrutable. In his peripheral vision, he savored the vague impressions as Harry's and Ron's expressions turned from curiosity to confusion to irritation, and then at last to exasperation. This was _fun_. He felt like an evil villain, crushing their hopes... _mwahahaha..._

_"Kakashi!"_

"You know," mused he, "I said 'good morning.' It's rude of you not to respond in kind."

Ron and Harry exchanged exasperated glances.

"Good morning, Kakashi," they chorused.

"Now _spill__!_" demanded Ron.

"Well," said Kakashi with an affected air of mystery. "Are you _sure_ you want to know?"

"_Yes!_"

"The truth is-" He paused.

"Is?"

"This is a secret. You have to _promise_ not to tell anyone."

"I promise."

"Yep," seconded Harry.

"Well, if you're absolutely _sure_..."

"Go on, then!"

"Okay, then. I promise it's true, but remember, _no telling_."

"_Kakashi!"_

"Here it is, then: _Priscilla Entwhistle_ is going to ask _Cedric Diggory _to go to Madam Puddifoot's with her for the Halloween Hogsmeade weekend, but _Cedric's _been interested in an unknown Gryffindor girl who may or may not be dating the captain of the _Slytherin_ Quidditch Team, and _he_ says he isn't dating anyone, but no one knows if that's because their parents have a blood feud and his are trying to arrange a marriage with a _Greengrass heir_, or because _she__'s _worried about her younger brother finding out and taking vengeance, since _he's _ in Ravenclaw and secretly dating _Agatha Bulstrode_, who absolutely _detests_ Flint for denying her cousin Miriam the beater position. Anyway, _Miriam_ was dating a Hufflepuff boy, _Bruce Lemming,_ who's in the same year as Cedric, and _he _says that Cedric's been getting love notes from a sixth-year student at Beauxbatons who may or may not have accidentally triggered a one-way unbreakable _soul bond_ with him in a secret and terrible ritual of forgotten power! And Leah Cowperthwaite is sending love potions to the Beauxbatons student."

Ron blinked.

Harry blinked.

Then Harry said, "Wait, the Greengrass heir is _Daphne_, and she's only a _first year_!"

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. "Scandalous, isn't it?"

Harry blinked again.

"That was _not _what we were asking about!"

* * *

Draco Malfoy had always thought of himself as _that_ sort of Slytherin.

Cool, calm, confident, mature, obedient, studious, talented, and respected. The sort of noble heir who showed up to class every day with impeccable emerald-trimmed robes and a politely dangerous smile, and then proceeded to outdo every other student in the classroom with elegant wandwork and magic. The one that other students would admire from a distance, all the while being wary of the invisible power held in the name of _Malfoy_. There was power there, the strongest Slytherin power- wealth, true, and magic, but most of all there was _influence_.

The silent threat of secrets held in blackmail, the intangible allegiance of all the strongest houses and the seats on the Wizengamot, the promise that _you survive because you are beneath my notice_, _and if I chose to do so I could crush you and ruin your future in an instant. _

The exchange student had no connections, so he would have been an easy target to assert his dominance over and make an impression on the crowd of first years before the Sorting began- or, alternatively, to ally with. However, that Hatake had displayed defiance and impudence to a scion of a Noble House, and Draco had _had _to retaliate before his reputation was absolutely ruined. Ever since then, he'd been looking for an opportunity- any opportunity- to crush this opposition before he himself could be crushed.

Draco _should_ have been the strongest magic-user in the first year.

He'd gotten his wand at the age of nine. Malfoys were above such petty things as the _underage magic laws_. He had studied magic for longer than anyone else, and on top of that his blood was purer even than that of the Greengrass family. He had been taught by the best tutors that Father's money could buy, and that meant that they were the best tutors _period_.

He wasn't the strongest.

Granger was.

Hatake was just barely below her, evidently for lack of motivation.

Draco was _third._

And that meant that Hatake needed to be crushed. Granger didn't matter, she was a mudblood, none of the Slytherins would even consider her as an anchor of opposition. Not with Father's influence. With Draco's own power and own magic. He needed to show once and for all that the Noble House of Malfoy was not something that you could defy and still live.

And so, while he had toyed with the idea of just luring Kakashi out to the Trophy Room and setting Filch on him, he'd known that wouldn't be enough.

_Aid me and you will be rewarded. Defy me and you will be crushed. On the game board, I am the chessmaster and you are my piece. There is no mercy for the enemy. Everyone plays the game. There are no rogue pieces. If you do not serve me, then you serve another chessmaster, and you will be crushed. _

That Kakashi was a rogue knight.

But there _were no rogue pieces._

Did he serve Dumbledore? That would make sense. Kakashi had befriended the Boy-Who-Lived, Dumbledore's most valuable game piece, and the Weasleys, a strong anchor of support among the Enemy Faction, stronger than the Longbottoms now, and the Finches, and the Vances, after the Dark Lord had crushed most of the light Houses. He had taken the mudblood Granger along with him to the duel, and he'd been seen talking to her regularly, more than the others in his House. And yet... Draco _really_ did not want to believe that.

If Kakashi served Dumbledore...

And Malfoy was under Kakashi's power.

Then that meant that Dumbledore, Father's _greatest enemy_, had gotten a hold over the House of Malfoy.

_Father will _kill_ me._

_Unless I can turn this to an advantage._

* * *

Harry had never really thought too much about what kind of a person he was.

Lately, however, he had been growing more and more certain that- whatever kind of person he was- he ought to be infinitely grateful that he wasn't Kakashi Hatake, or Hermione Granger, or Draco Malfoy.

He and Ron had pestered Kakashi for a _whole hour_ about whatever it was that had happened in the Trophy Room at Midnight, and Harry _still_ wasn't sure what that conversation had been about. The exchange student had never avoided their questions exactly, or lied, exactly, but...

Somewhere along the way, Harry had found himself asking: "_What events occurred in the Trophy Room which in any way involved you, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle (and/or individuals who may have, for whatever purpose, chosen to abduct and impersonate any of the aforementioned individuals), during the span of time during which you yourself were present, bu__t in any case limited to the hours between 11:37 pm and 5:00 this morning, that you, to the best of your ability believe may be of interest to us, setting aside only those details in which you are certain that we, Harry James Potter and Ronald Bilius Weasley, are both uninterested?"_

And Kakashi had _still_ found loopholes.

The exchange students reply had run thus: "_Well, after Malfoy's friends turned into cheerleaders, we talked a little bit about Section 4b of Code 17 of the 73rd session of the 101st Wizengamot and then we had a little session of peer mediation where Malfoy tickled me, and we had a chat about the spirit of love and friendship and then Malfoy was trying to be melodramatic, and then there was _thwacking_ and we completed the quest and gained a minion and then Hermione burst into peals of infectious laughter as we skipped back to the Gryffindor dorm."_

Whatever it was that was wrong with Kakashi's mind, Harry was beginning to think that perhaps it was a good thing that he and Ron had stayed behind in the Gryffindor dorm. Because there had to be something very peculiar and _contagious_ about Kakashi that went ahead and spread to anyone who tried to go on weird adventures with him, and the worst part was...

...he didn't think Kakashi was lying.

Harry didn't have any words for how it was trying to make Kakashi talk.

It was like trying to hold onto an eel and keep it from biting you at the same time. It was like trying to catch a minnow, but the moment your hand plashed into the water, they were gone like a memory.

Harry had felt as though he ought to write down exactly what it was that he'd wanted to ask Kakashi about, because every time Kakashi had said something, Harry had gotten even more confused, until he wasn't sure whether he should be asking about 'Section 4b' or the Incident with the Ravenclaw Seeker or Malfoy _tickling _Kakashi or the Third-Floor Corridor or whether he should just go and demand the truth from Hermione. But if Kakashi _was _telling the truth, then Hermione had been _giggling_ as she went out-of-bounds after hours, and Harry just didn't know what to think about that.

So Harry put the entire event firmly out of his mind, and instead turned to Ron.

"So, I hear Gryffindor's playing Slytherin next weekend?"

* * *

_Memo  
_

_To: Special Jounin Hatake Kakashi  
From: Sandaime Hokage Sarutobi Hiruzen  
_

_Your request for additional support during the period from 30 October until 05 January has been granted. Your subordinates will be fully briefed on the situation before arrival. You will retain full authority and command over the mission during this period. The profiles of your subordinates are attached in seals below, to be burned after reading. Needless to say, it is vital that none of this information is leaked._

_SEAL: Tamanaka Rin_

_SEAL: Gekko Hayate_

_SEAL: Morino Ibiki_

_The support will arrive no later than 12:03 am on 31 October._

_Sarutobi Hiruzen  
Sandaime Hokage._

* * *

**Drama! Excitement! Mystery! Forbidden romance! All that and more in every chapter of _Masks and Redemption! _Each issue is just 19.95, but if you spend just a little more you can get the hardcover version with signature and special collectible bookmark! And illustrations! And a Kakashi plushie! And it's just two silver sickles to join SPEW and get an honorary member's badge! Remember, this is a limited time offer, so buy now! A full Fanfic Fan's pack is available in three different colors for a payment of just 7.99 a month for nine months!  
**

**Ha.**

**Just kidding, it's all free. **

**But I do spend like three or four hours writing a single chapter, plus another hour or two editing. **

**So if you want to review...**

**Maybe...**

**Come on, it only takes like five seconds.**

**-Crys**


	14. In Which: Kakashi Meets the Musketeers

**A/N: I know. I know, okay? But you have no _clue_ how insane my life is right now. NO. CLUE.  
**

**This chapter is dedicated to... um...** _Elspeth**... **_**for correctly spelling 'whetted' in a review. How long has it been since I last saw someone spell that word correctly? I have new hope for the future of the English language! Now if only everyone could master 'piqued' and 'hangar' and 'to pore over' and 'all right', we'd be good to go!  
**

* * *

_Hey, Kashi-kun._

_It's me, Rin. You've probably heard by now that I managed to wedge myself into your backup team? I felt a little bad about leaving when things are so tough here, but anyway Minato-sensei and Kushina-san are fine. I'm teamed up with some older jounin mostly, but since Mikoto-san is back in action they don't need me anymore. _

_Anyway, I think you should know- Hayate got hit with a pretty big dose of poison gas by a Suna nin, and it was almost a week before they could come up with an antidote. It was kind of acidic and there's been some bad permanent damage. I'm pretty sure that Hokage-sama sent him your way so that he could get some forced rest from active combat at that 'Hogwarts' place you're staying. I know the Sandaime's trying to get him off the front lines, and Ibiki too. They needed a medic to come along in case Hayate's lungs get worse again, so that's where I come in. _

_We're always thinking of you._

_See you,_

_Rin_

* * *

In the dark of midnight, two figures stood in the Headmaster's office.

The clock ticked: 12:03 am.

Then there was a sudden sucking-popping sound, and six figures stood in the Headmaster's office.

"Professor McGonagall," said the Headmaster with a smile. "How good of you to come."

The Scottish witch gave him a look. "Yes, Albus, and your 'reinforcements' have arrived safe and sound as well. Although if I _never_ have to take another portkey with a shinobi again, it will be too soon."

There was the sound of pattering footsteps and a _thump_ as flak jacket collided with bone-white ANBU armor. Tamanaka Rin had launched herself headlong at Hatake Kakashi and was now giving him a fierce hug, mask and hitai-ate and sixteen concealed knives and sharingan and summon scrolls and all.

Kakashi stood quite still, before gently pushing her away.

"Yo," he said.

Rin gave him a reproachful look but didn't object. "Do you have any idea how much we've missed you at home, you idiot?"

"Um," Kakashi said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Time and place, Rin."

She flushed a little but straightened. "Right, Captain."

He turned to the other two silhouettes, one of whom seemed to be leaning rather heavily on the other. "Gekko? Morino?"

"Yes."

"Ye- *cough, cough* -yeah."

"How are you two combat-wise? Don't be stupid and try to pretend, I know you've just seen some action."

"I'm fine."

"A- *cough* little combat fatigue. And- *cough, cough* some residual lung damage. And *cough* Ibiki'll still be *cough* short on chakra for *cough, cough* another day or two."

"I'm fine!"

"Shut up, Ibiki. We don't need any heroic sacrifices, so go ahead and rest awhile. Rin, how are you?"

"You know my chakra reserves and my stamina better than I do. I'd probably say I'm at 70% or so."

"Good. Ibiki, you're on primary guard duty. Rin, I'm pairing you with Hayate so you can heal him if anything goes really wrong, but if your chakra's getting below 40% let me know so I can switch you out. I've currently got three shadow clones going," (there was a collective wince from every shinobi present as they imagined keeping _three_ kage bunshin active for _t__wo months_,) "So you can have the one guarding the Stone show you the ropes before it dispels, Ibiki."

Kakashi turned to Dumbledore. "I don't see any reason why the students ought to know he exists, actually. Or Hayate, for that matter, but he's too conspicuous to hide for long, and we can't afford to have him away from a medic for too long in case he has another onset of illness. It'd also be unwise to have him henge for too long, since he's suffering combat fatigue already."

Hayate looked supremely uncomfortable. Kakashi could almost sympathize: being injured sucked.

"So- alternating schedule, I guess. One person rests, one with the Stone, two with the charge. Morino, you take a three-quarters day shift with the Stone, I'll take three-quarters day shift with Harry, and Rin and Hayate can switch off for the quarter night shift. Rin, you're with Harry, you're less conspicuous. You should probably try befriending one of the first-year Gryffindors without getting too obviously close to Harry.

"Do you have backstories yet?"

The other three shook their heads silently.

"Ibiki, you don't need one. Stay out of sight as often as possible. If you're caught by a professor who's not in on the secret, say you're..." Kakashi paused, then nodded. "You're the assistant to the representative of the Opal Star broomstick company, which is trying to market school brooms for Hogwarts, and then ask for directions to Dumbledore's office The client will confirm your story if necessary. If it's a student, just ask for directions to Professor Dumbledore's office and don't say anything more. You should probably wear wizard's robes just in case.

"Gekko, you should stay in the Hospital Wing when you're off duty. Madam Pomfrey will keep students away, and we'll know where to find you. If anyone asks he's got a mild case of the Glimmering Consumption, and he can't talk. That's two birds with one stone, since I don't suppose you've learned much English yet?"

Nods.

"Well, Ibiki, you'll just have to stay out of sight as much as possible. Gekko's set. Rin, I think we'll have to give you an official backstory. You've read the notes on mine?"

"Yep."

"Good. Match that as closely as possible- it will lend credibility to mine as well. Otherwise, keep to the truth. If a girl named Hermione Granger starts asking you questions, deflect them as best as you can, or just refuse to talk, pretend you're offended, or you don't understand her, or whatever. You're from the same 'magic school' as I am, but you specialize in healing. I've been faking them out with genjutsu, but you don't have the right skill set for that. If anyone asks, you're just here to learn the theory of wand work, but you're getting lessons in healing from Madam Pomfrey. That can also work to excuse any random trips to the hospital wing. We are well acquainted with one another, having been in the same classes for several years, and you are also studying under my guardian, Minato-sensei. Any questions?"

Silence.

Kakashi surveyed his team with a deep feeling of satisfaction. No, they weren't in the best condition, and yes, it would be a while before any of them would be more help than hindrance- but they were Konoha ninja. They were normal. They didn't try to charm staircases or fly on sticks or magic their ceilings. They were sane. They were reliable.

It would be nice to have someone watching his back for a change.

* * *

Once upon a time, October 31st had been Halloween in Magical Britain.

Now it was Harry Potter Day.

Witches and wizards carved pumpkins with evil faces to symbolize how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been found an empty husk next to the crib of Harry James Potter, and lit candles in remembrance of the brave warriors of the light. Ghosts were given a prominent role as well, for the remembrance of the dead. Live bats had been charmed to existence, for, according to legend, these were the only creatures who had witnessed the events of that fateful night. Black cats, like the Kneazle the Potters were said to have had, were also considered part of the Holiday festivities.

Kakashi wondered if Harry was aware of this.

The green-eyed boy didn't _seem_ too worked up, even considering that this _was_ a holiday. Usually his charge would instinctively shy away from any extra attention due to his unique fame, and fidget uncomfortably whenever anyone brought it up. He didn't even seem particularly upset on what was apparently the anniversary of his parents' deaths.

Although no one _actually_ had the audacity to say, "Happy Harry Potter Day" to the Boy-Who-Lived.

In fact, everyone was giving him a _very_ wide berth, especially the Slytherins.

The general sentiment seemed to be that Harry probably wouldn't appreciate being reminded of his parents' horrific demise at the hands of a vicious Dark Lord, and might even be inclined to take revenge on any enemy that showed up, perceived or actual. When Percy Weasley, one of the Gryffindor prefects, had stood up in the Common Room as though about to make a speech, Ron had (with unusual sensitivity) given his older brother a pointed glare.

Harry... didn't seem bothered at all.

So either he was really feeling no regret, sorrow, grief, et cetera, or else (as Kakashi suspected) he simply hadn't figured out what this holiday was actually about.

_That _would be an interesting epiphany, when it came.

* * *

When the Headmaster stood up from his seat at the Head Table at breakfast on Harry Potter Day, the entire Hall fell to a hush.

Several nervous glances were aimed at Harry Potter- surely the Headmaster wasn't about to make a _speech_, not right in front of Harry. Not at _breakfast_. That couldn't _really _be what he was trying to do. No one would do that. To remind Harry Potter about his parents' sacrifice in the middle of the Great Hall? How could he? But what else could he be doing, then, if not that?

Kakashi yawned.

"Today," said the Headmaster in deep, resounding tones, "We welcome several new students to our humble place of learning. They have arrived from the Eastern Magical Community to study our western traditions and I hope that you will give them both a warm welcome as they adjust to a different way of life. I present to you: Mr. Hayate Gekko and Miss Rin Nohara."

And lo and behold, the two came forward- Rin smiling tentatively and looking quite out-of-place with her bright purple face-marks and her leaf headband, and Gekko looking positively zombified with skin wan and waxy, dark purple circles under his eyes, and- though he apparently tried to suppress it- a horrible, wracking cough that sounded like he was coughing up his internal organs.

Kakashi didn't wince, but he couldn't suppress a twinge of dismay. Whatever poison that had gotten Hayate had been _bad_.

Rin and Hayate both stepped forward and bowed politely. Then, as Kakashi had directed, Rin began to recite their introduction in a faltering, heavily accented voice.

"Hello. My name is Nohara Rin. This one is my classmate named Gekko Hayate. We study from the Konoha School of Magical Discipline. We are- _ano_- much honored to be invited to study at this school. We are eager to learn the western ways. It will be challenging, so please take care of us. Thank you very much."

Bewildered silence.

The Weasley twins stood up in unison and began a frenzied two-man ovation.

Tentatively, the Hufflepuffs joined in.

And one by one, the others all began to clap (except the Slytherins), and the sound rose into a moderate round of applause.

It wasn't like they were unenthusiastic, Kakashi figured, but they sure as hell had to have been really confused.

Dumbledore raised a hand.

Instant silence.

"Miss Nohara and Mr. Gekko will be with us for just until the Christmas holidays, so I think we shall forgo the Sorting process just this once." That had been Kakashi's idea, actually: _no one _would buy that all three of them had magically ended up Gryffindors. "Miss Nohara and Mr. Gekko will be joining their classmate Mr. Hatake in classes and at meals, and Miss Nohara will be staying in Gryffindor tower. It is, of course, needless to remind you all that our new additions are to be welcomed with warmth and courtesy. Thank you very much. Miss Nohara and Mr Gekko, you may be seated."

Rin smiled politely and she and Gekko both bowed to the Headmaster.

As she walked lightly towards Kakashi (not too quickly for Hayate, of course) and waved cheerfully at him, a chorus of whispers broke out among all of the tables.

Kakashi felt a headache coming on.

* * *

"Kakashi!" Rin was skipping toward him.

With an internal sigh for the inevitable, Kakashi scooted over on the bench so there was enough room beside him for one person. Rin blinked momentarily, but (of course) got it within half a second. She paused, waiting for Hayate to catch up to her; he did, his breathing almost imperceptibly ragged. Then she helped him get seated next to Kakashi, her movements subtle but effective. Then she slipped over to the other side of the table and took a seat between Ron and Hermione.

"I-" she began smiling brightly, but faltering with her words. "I am very happy to see of you."

"'See you', no 'of'," Kakashi corrected.

Hermione almost remonstrated, he could tell, but stopped as Rin just rolled her eyes, clearly unhurt.

"Minato-sensei is well," she persisted. "But always wish see you. And Kushina-san, and friends."

"Minato-sensei wants to see Kushina-san?" Kakashi raised his single visible eyebrow.

"I don't mean- stop that, Kakashi!"

"You can speak in Japanese, if you like," Hermione offered. "You guys deserve some time to catch up."

"That would be rude," pointed out Kakashi, looking quite apathetic.

"Then you can translate, can't you? Go ahead."

At this, Rin clapped her hands together and began babbling rapidly in Japanese: "_Kakashi, guess what? Kushina-san told me that she and Minato-sensei are going to think about having children after the war is over- but of course, the war isn't over, but still, that's really exciting since before Kushina-san always said that she wasn't cut out to be a mother but I think it would be really fantastic! Oh, and Gai is really eager to see you, he thinks you're on a long-term mission to the Land of Snow but he keeps doing cartwheels around the village square and saying that he'll definitely catch up to you or something, and he said he was even going to do laps around the entire village! And you remember Iruka from the Academy? Probably not. But he made chunin in the exams most recently (even though they're promoting people left and right now) and he's even a squadron leader, and Asuma's older sister got engaged!"_

Kakashi gave Hermione a doubtful look. "Do you want me to translate all of that?"

She smiled sweetly.

He sighed. "It was all just silly gossip, you know. My guardian's wife is thinking about having children, and for some reason this is exciting. My classmate Gai is being irrational again. An old acquaintance of ours graduated, and a relative of a friend is engaged."

Was that a flash of disappointment in her eyes? Never.

"_And everything... else... is going well?" _He inquired of Rin.

"_No. There are many more heavy losses than we had foreseen, and it doesn't look like the conditions will improve anytime soon. But Konoha still has the upper hand. We have Tsunade-sama, and Jiraiya-sama, and Minato-sensei, and Kushina-san, and the Hyuga and the Uchiha and all the other clans, after all."_

"The final exams this year are harder than we expected," Kakashi said for Hermione's benefit.

"Is it okay if I ask questions? Can you translate?"

"Sure."

"Great! So how long have you three known each other?"

Kakashi translated for Rin's benefit, then answered. "We were in the same classes briefly when we were four and five, and then again when we were eleven."

Rin spoke.

Kakashi rolled his eyes. "Not relevant."

"What do you study, Rin? And you, Hayate?"

"You call it 'healing,' I think so?" Rin asked tentatively. "Hayate-kun studies-"

Suddenly, without any warning at all, Gekko doubled over. Wracking coughs shook his already thin frame, and the sound was horrible. A grating, ripping sound that emanated from somewhere deep inside his chest.

Kakashi turned in alarm, and Rin was by his side in an instant. "_Breathe in your nose, out of your mouth,"_ she coached him. "_If you irritate your respiratory passages __by coughing it'll just get worse."_ Kakashi was pouring a goblet full of what he knew to be honey water and pressed it into Hayate's hands. Gradually the fit began to abate, and the coughs slowed to one every two or three seconds. His harsh breathing eased.

"_Drink_," Kakashi ordered, the instant Rin gave him the glance that meant _We're okay._

To the dumbstruck Hermione, Ron, and Harry, he pasted an apologetic look on his face.

"Glittering Consumption," he said with a sigh. "Don't worry, it's not contagious."

* * *

Harry knew that it was unreasonable of him, but he still couldn't stifle a small sense of- of-

Well, he wasn't sure _what_, exactly.

He'd known Kakashi for two months, and they'd become friends. He'd thought so, at least. Kakashi had been warm, and mostly amiable, and witty, even if he had _way_ more than his share of weird quirks and unexplained talents. He'd helped Harry out and hadn't bugged him too much about his scar- treated him like a normal person, didn't have too high expectations, and Harry had felt that Kakashi also appreciated his and Ron's company, and even Hermione's.

He couldn't find the word for how it felt, but...

But now it felt like part of the mask Kakashi always seemed to wear- the mask that Harry had seen first at the opening feast_, a car crash_ he had said- had been stripped off and he'd seen a little something more beyond the mask. But it didn't make sense to him and whatever was behind the mask didn't seem at all like the Kakashi that Harry had befriended at Hogwarts.

It was peculiar feeling, to see that Kakashi had _friends_ from back home.

Of course Kakashi had introduced them as classmates, acquaintances, but it was _painfully_ obvious that they had some kind of common bond. Even with Hayate, there was a flash of alarm in Kakashi's eyes whenever the sallow boy coughed, and a quiet urgency in Kakashi's movements as he silently filled a goblet with water and pressed it into the other boy's hands. The glances he shared with Rin, which said so much and yet were indecipherable to Harry's eyes.

For Harry, Hogwarts had been a fresh start. He'd never had friends at all for the first eleven years of his life, unless you counted Mr. Nibbles and Snowball and Mrs. Figg- Dudley had taken care of that. Ron too, it seemed, had lived quietly, without many other wizarding children nearby except for his older brothers and his little sister. Hermione was a Muggle-born, and Harry would have guessed that she had been the quiet type who- to put it frankly- didn't have too many friends as a child. All of the purebloods seemed acquainted, at least, but in a cold, detached way that followed generations upon generations of alliances and feuds and betrayals and a ridiculously complicated set of social strata.

And... Harry felt a little betrayed. Maybe.

It was disillusioning to realize what a small part of someone else's life you were. He was all too aware, now, what a small part he played in Kakashi's life. There were objectives and bonds and things that Harry was absolutely ignorant of, and the face of the friendly, quirky classmate was beginning to look very much like a mask.

Harry was beginning to understand why Hermione was so suspicious.

* * *

**Over 50k words, my friends! I believe the word for this situation is _BOOYAH_!**

**Also, Kakashi is totally D'Artagnan. Can't you just see him on a yellow pony?**

**Also, my life has been crappy for two whole months. To remedy this solution, you must review. DO IT.**


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